Horses. Leather warmed at a canter, verdant green in the air. You work up a sweat as you press the stallion harder, breathing in unison. Then the reward of a sun-ripened peach, hoofs crunching the sea of wild lily of the valley beneath the tree. Never far from an illicit tryst in the stables on a bed of hay.
Courage is not being unafraid of being thrown. It’s getting straight back in the saddle when you are.
grass, peach, bergamot, lily of the valley, hay, leather accord, metal tack, vetiver, amber, musk, fir, tobacco
Ashley Eden Kessler
