My first thought on trying Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier’s Route Du Vetiver, one Autumn fine day in London, was
‘I have been interred.’
A first impression – cavernous; deep – of dark, loamy soil; a grasping clutch of webbed, fibrous roots surrounding, dragging you further beneath, down, rapidly, unwillingly, right into the ground….
Down, down, we go, our last breaths leaving us..
Subsumed; drawn in.
Yet, there is serenity down here in this cool, worm-pured earth; we relent and acquiesce, surrender to our fate; and slowly, the grotesque wonder of our predicament begins to fade. Memories of life above, sky, and sunshine gradually come back, and, soon, a comforting, revivifying light of pale green leaves and citrus begins to peek through.
( ‘Remember that day we ran through the woods?’ )
Earthworm: the intense, natural smell of soil and the common worm, earthing its way through the humus: a pellucid concertina ingesting, and lingering, the ground in digested, miniature mountains.
A scent for those yearning for escape to some greater place, the unfettered outdoors; or, perhaps suicidally, for these blind, urging, creatures to loiter themselves, slowly, through their still, whitening ribcages.