Flowers
Fragrance notes
Character
A white table sits under a pergola where morning light filters through slats of wood. Someone sets a shallow bowl of fresh petals beside a glass of cold water, and the air around the seat changes. The scent is floral in a direct way, with no spice or fruit leaning in to complicate it. It smells like stems snapped cleanly and the damp air that rises from a garden bed after water touches the soil. There is a green edge to the petals, a coolness that keeps the flowers from feeling arranged or decorative.
The petals belong to no single variety, so the scent shifts between soft powder and crisp leaf as the breeze moves. It is light, never thick, and the floral accord stays close to the surface of the air rather than sinking into the wood of the table. A few stray stems lie across the stone floor, their scent mixing with the warmth that begins to rise from the path. The water in the glass catches the light, and the petals drift slightly whenever the air stirs the corner of the pergola.
A second bowl arrives with more flowers, these cooler and paler than the first, and the air turns quieter as the two groups sit side by side. The floral scent deepens only enough to suggest more stems beneath the surface, still clean and still unadorned. The light moves another inch across the table, and the petals tilt toward the warmth while the air around the seat continues to hold the
