To provide the best experiences, we use technologies like cookies to store and/or access device information. Consenting to these technologies will allow us to process data such as browsing behavior or unique IDs on this site. Not consenting or withdrawing consent, may adversely affect certain features and functions.
The technical storage or access is strictly necessary for the legitimate purpose of enabling the use of a specific service explicitly requested by the subscriber or user, or for the sole purpose of carrying out the transmission of a communication over an electronic communications network.
The technical storage or access is necessary for the legitimate purpose of storing preferences that are not requested by the subscriber or user.
The technical storage or access that is used exclusively for statistical purposes.
The technical storage or access that is used exclusively for anonymous statistical purposes. Without a subpoena, voluntary compliance on the part of your Internet Service Provider, or additional records from a third party, information stored or retrieved for this purpose alone cannot usually be used to identify you.
The technical storage or access is required to create user profiles to send advertising, or to track the user on a website or across several websites for similar marketing purposes.
jur4k – :
I can see this being more universally loved because of its gourmand qualities—the beeswax & vanilla make it almost edible! To me this is more rosewood than frankincense though, which in a sense is less “sacred,” but nothing wrong with that 🙂
*The “floral notes” is supposed to be night-blooming jasmine (Cestrum nocturnum)
zle667speagoessenda – :
I believe this is my favourite of the Royal Alchemy collection. Though they are all beautiful, this is the one I turn to when I want to feel something truly “sacred”. My initial impression, when I smell this, is of flower arrangements and wooden benches, which are being tidied up around me. The arrangements are mostly greenery, the ladies who sort them are only just beginning to add the bright, beautiful flowers, so every now and then, a rose or random flower will whisper across the peace and industrious tranquillity, lending it’s voice to the atmosphere. The vicar isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty, wearing a robe with a smudge where he spilled some burned incense, he’s on his knees, carefully polishing the ends of the pews, beeswax with a squeeze of orange zest, worked into the ancient wood to make it shine. And while the main, stained glass, window casts multicoloured light upon the altar, the workers are lit by beams of glowing golden sunlight that dances off tiny notes of dust in the air.
It’s tranquil, reverent and extremely beautiful but it’s also completely unpretentious. It would suit any age-group, it is the beauty of the untamed outdoors, taken indoors to share it’s light.
(To those who don’t like notes described as a story, I apologize. I find it easier to explain them this way, especially when they tell their story so clearly.)