The tram had broken down halfway up the mountain, leaving me stranded in the dense forest. I had no choice but to quickly find my way to the next village, five miles away, where my ride was waiting. The trail, barely marked and quickly lost, twisted and vanished in the undergrowth, left to navigate through a labyrinth of towering pines and firs. My heart pounded as I pushed through the forest, shadows deepening as the sky darkened with the threat of rain. The urgency of reaching the village before the storm hit drove me onward, but the forest seemed to conspire against me, as I tripped over roots and skirted unseen obstacles. Though battered as I was, as the storm loomed closer, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this journey through the dark forest wasn’t just a race against the elements, but something more profound.

After what felt like hours of almost comically desperate running, I burst into a clearing. The oppressive forest suddenly giving way to a vast, open meadow cradled by the massive, jagged crown of the glacier-covered Alps, like white, blue, and gray knives piercing the sky—a surreal contrast to the darkness I had just escaped. The air was thick with the sweet scent of wild strawberries, stepping upon the red gems scattered across the green expanse like a forgotten offering from some ancient spirit. My legs gave out, and I sank into the soft grass and strawberries, the tension of the journey and my concerns draining away. As I caught my breath, I reached into my pack and found a piece of white chocolate, a remnant from another time, another place. I unwrapped it slowly, letting it melt on my tongue as I gorged on the vivid strawberries around and beneath me, their immensely intense flavor grounding me in this strange, otherworldly moment. The sky above soon seemed to spin, and before I knew it, I had fallen—whether asleep or into another world, I couldn’t be sure.

The warmth of the day had given way to a cold, light drizzle of rain. Laying prone, I blinked in the dimming light and saw an ibex standing over me, its eyes reflecting an eerie intelligence. The creature was impossibly close, its breath warm against my skin as it licked the remnants of chocolate and strawberry juice from my face. Its fur, wet and matted, clung to its body, yet there was something almost otherworldly about its presence, as if it had emerged from the mountain itself to find me. I felt a tug at my jeans and realized the ibex was gently chewing on them, not out of hunger, but out of some strange curiosity or amusement. The rain fell harder, and I lay there, paralyzed by the surrealism of it all—lost in the mountains, with only a mystical mountain goat and the lingering taste of wild strawberries to anchor me to this strange, in-between world. And yet, even as I lay there, exhausted and overwhelmed, there was a part of me that clung to every moment of this strange, surreal experience. No matter how much fear or discomfort I felt, I knew I would never want to let go of these memories. They were a part of me now, woven into the fabric of who I was becoming. As the storm receded into the background, I understood that the suffering, the fear, and the wild beauty of this place would stay with me forever, shaping the person I would be when I finally stood up to again move forward.

Details

26% - Extrait de Parfume

50 ml