THE GRAVEYARD

as we walk down the cobblestone street (Asheville, NC), the distinctive scent of topsoil arises from cracks between the bricks, blending with mist, the tour guide’s dim flashlight, and orbs which move about as they choose. The wrought iron fence surrounding the graveyard is short yet stately and we see reflections of cobwebs as the moonbeams strike its metallic surface. The tour guide doesn’t say much, so it is eerily quiet, save for the occasional scream or cackle that we reassure ourselves is only people in the city center. As the haze increases i hear the nurse say, “he is gone,” and i recall a quote that my best friend’s momma had on a little rickety wooden sign in her cottage home: “Life’s journey is not to arrive at the grave safely, in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting ‘Holy ****, what a ride!” The graveyard is not about fancy perfumery or fragrance. It’s about a life well-lived. Sink your toes into the dirt and inhale the moss. You might feel more alive than ever.

I personally really enjoy how potent the smell is and as a veteran and construction worker the smell of the fresh dirt is soothing.

Petrichor in the rain. It reminds me of the Hoh rainforest in WA state but I use a tiny bit (0.15) with a scent called Wine Country to remind me of the Vineyards of eastern Wa. It blends perfectly to give any scent earthiness and the depth of the grave.

Tough fo to nail down. This is it.

It smells just as described. Dark, earthy, mossy, damp. It’s great!