We recently marked the winter solstice in my part of the world, and I'm so relieved that we're now slowly edging towards the "longer" days and milder temperatures of spring. I'm already extracting as much sensory value as possible from every brief outdoor errand, despite the grayness, the wind, and the ongoing threat of Covid-19: sniffing the air in local parks when I'm alone and can remove my mask, turning my face to catch a ray of winter sun, taking close visual note of evergreen trees and any lingering greenery in my neighborhood.

I've reread a few favorite works of children's literature over the past year, including two that employ secluded, leafy spaces as symbols of renewal and transformation. One is Frances Hodgson Burnett's The Secret Garden (1911), in which a pair of lonely children observe the arrival of springtime in a long-forgotten garden: "[I]t seemed that green things would never cease pushing their way through the earth, in the grass, in the beds, even in the crevices of the walls..." Mandy Aftel of Aftelier offers a perfume named Secret Garden, named after this book. I need to get out my sample and revisit it.

I also reread Katherine Paterson's Bridge to Terabithia (1977), a more contemporary tale of two young friends who form their strongest bond in a natural setting. This time, it's a hideaway in a forest. As one character muses, "this was where he would choose to be — here where the dogwood and redbud played hide and seek between the oaks and evergreens, and the sun flung itself in golden streams through the trees to splash warmly at their feet." That latter description ran through my mind while I was sniffing Joie de Vert ("Joy of Green"), Aftelier's newest release.

Joie de Vert is a "green dream of a fragrance" featuring anise, hyssop, oakmoss, firetree, orange flower, pear, styrax, bitter orange and coriander. Many "green" fragrances fail to engage me, personally, just because they're either too sharp, too monotonous, or too conventionally masculine. However, Joie de Vert is a harmony of disparate natural materials — fruit, flower, leaf, resin — blended into a complex yet wearable impression of a verdant forest clearing.

Joie de Vert starts off as a woody citrus, with the oranges still very much on the stem. A surprise element that ties the composition together is some anise hyssop essential oil — it's slightly licorice-y without being cloying, and its coolness balances out the warmth of the citrus notes. Then there's a leafy-green heart to Joie de Vert, shading into a deeper woody-green finish. Altogether, Joie de Vert conjures up several aspects of a forest, overlapping and shifting in shadow and sunlight: tree leaves overhead, clumps of ferns, the slightly damp rotting wood of fallen tree trunks, patches of bright green moss.

Joie de Vert reminds me that only truly natural materials can offer a particular sensation of "nature" in a perfume. And it's very long-lasting on my skin, especially for an all-botanical fragrance, so I'm able to enjoy my imaginary forest stroll for an entire afternoon. If you're already an Aftelier fan, you'll love this one; if you're not already familiar with the line, you might try Joie de Vert as a starting point. I'll be making the most of my sample in my own indoor semi-seclusion in the days to come.

Aftelier Joie de Vert is available in 30 ml Eau de Parfum ($210), or in 2 ml mini Parfum ($55) and 8 ml Parfum ($210). Samples of Eau de Parfum are also sold ($8). For information on where to buy Joie de Vert, see Aftelier under Perfume Houses.

Note: top image is ... [cropped] by catherine ¨MOSINIAK-PAILLIER at flickr; some rights reserved.

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