Scents of Provence-- May 2008

Scent, the strongest sense to humans with just a hint brings a person to a memory. Prevalent, consuming, and inspirational are the scents of this small soap shop of Provence. With wild flower fields of endless site, this southern region is plentiful in fragrant ingredients for luxurious nights in. 

I slowly and gently hold the lavender bar in my hand, colored of a muted violet. As the smell hits my nose, I am there: fields of wild lavender panoramically, the sun pressing against my profile, petals tickling the back of my knees, and the essence of Provence on my sleeve.

Next, I lift the fawn shaded soap, smelling of bees’ honey and almond. The taste invites the sensation of freshly harvested honey and crisply roasted almonds swirling in my mouth. I wish to smell like this: heavenly.

Before I start to just admire these products from afar, I pick up my last soap: as white as cotton. I am in an exotic flee market of freshly pressed garments or in the safety of my mother’s laundry room just after a folded load emerged. As I entice my nose, I see the fresh balls of white combining to create this enchantment.

I linger for a while in this shop, this particular one for no more reason than the colorful pottery donning its exterior. As I step back out into the mediterranean air, I, just with a hint, taste the last remembrance of perfume. It is no comparison, however, to the real world outside its shaded door. The colors and the simple air of this place are enough to make me leave the precious retreat of the soap shop.