July, Like a Saturday Morning —

A time when the thermometer climbs high, and with it, time itself seems to pause. An inexplicable calm sets in, worries fade, and thoughts drift somewhere far away — to southern seas, perhaps, or back to childhood, or just to those moments in the past when life felt good.

The July air, like a flower quenching thirst, slowly fills with moisture, becoming dense and hot. And yet, it’s not heavy to breathe — quite the opposite. Each breath reminds me of a tiny happiness: almost childlike, fleeting, summer-long, but real.

Everything seems to be painted in richer hues — the sky turns a deep, saturated blue found in no other month, and the greenery, not yet scorched by the sun, glows emerald. I love watching how nature changes. In two or three weeks, the leaves will start to take on warmer tones — like little sun-kisses from July's heat.

For me, July feels like a Saturday morning. It’s that moment when everything is fine: the cold spring and rainy days are forgotten, and the looming anxiety of late August hasn’t yet arrived. Even if I have to get up early for work, I feel joy and peace — because damn it, it’s July, not gloomy October!

This feeling of aimless happiness and deep serenity, which only comes at the peak of summer, is always tied in my mind to the scent of the sea. In Marine Cave Essential, I found that exact moment — a simple, honest happiness from childhood, when we eagerly awaited summer and swimming season. I picture the sun high in the sky, casting long shadows, while the sea glistens with such dazzling brightness it's hard to look at. I'm in a wet swimsuit, sitting on warm, rough coastal stones that leave their marks on my skin, simply enjoying the slow passing of time.

Marine is the true breath of sea breeze and salty spray on skin. It whisks me away from a stuffy office straight to the coast, in the middle of a hot July afternoon. I adore it.

And I must confess — it’s the softest aquatic fragrance I’ve ever encountered. From the first seconds, Marine feels both gentle and fresh — like a real wind carrying sea particles. Its notes are delicate and transparent, like watercolor: a cool clarity laced with faint floral tenderness.

The freshness comes from marine and ozonic notes, along with a modest lily of the valley — not seeking attention but enhancing the purity and lightness of the scent. As it unfolds, a sweet, airy note of cyclamen emerges, as if blooming nearby, in the shade. Then come the white florals: jasmine, honeysuckle, and perhaps ylang-ylang, as the pyramid suggests. To me, they feel like sun-warmed white blossoms, radiant yet not overwhelming — weaving into the salty, warm sea air that drifts from the shore.

The first time I smelled Marine, I thought I also caught a soft citrus note. It’s so natural I want to keep inhaling it — like real sea air, again and again.

A true summer, hot and serene, for me can’t exist without lavender. I deeply love Lavande Romaine by Perris Monte Carlo — for its most natural, living lavender. Jean-Claude Ellena crafted a silk-threaded, jewel-like composition with lavender, blackcurrant leaf, cedarwood, and white musk. The currant note elegantly enhances the freshness of the whole fragrance.

When I breathe in Lavande Romaine, I imagine opening a window somewhere far in the south — maybe early morning, when the air is warm but not yet scorching, or in the evening, when the heat begins to fade and a fine, slightly bitter scent of lavender drifts in.

Yes, it's undoubtedly real Lavandula angustifolia, still untouched by the harsh sun. After a while, a light, slightly humid haze rises over the horizon and slowly settles on violet fields. I smell cut grass… and more: a bit of dry mint and sage, carefully tied in linen string into small bundles hanging on the wall. I feel the scent of herbal tea with maté, watching steam curl slowly upward — and in that moment, everything feels right.

Another fragrance — Fulgor by Cale Fragranze d’Autore — takes me back to childhood, to an old country house where I spent summers. The house was surrounded by wild, slightly unkempt greenery — manicured lawns were a rarity back then. I would sit at a wooden garden table with books, studying for the coming school year… Back then, summer was a “small life” — happy and short.

I remember how, as kids, we loved to crush and rub green leaves between our fingers. Those who’ve done it surely remember: sometimes, a surprising, slightly spicy scent with a hint of cocoa would emerge — that exact note I find in Fulgor.

It brings back the smell of lush, wet, deep green leaves that never quite dried under the northern sun. I’m drawn to the scents of prickly greenery, ferns, burdock, dandelions, herbs, and nettles…

And what fragrances take you back to your childhood?