A collection of autumn splendor, dark October secrets, and of something lurking just inside the woods. With notes of harvest spices, dry autumn woods, ripe pumpkins and rich vanilla, golden amber, woodsmoke and brisk October air, Jack's Woods is a celebration of Halloween lore and life in small mountain towns. These fragrances are complex, unexpected, and just a little dark.
Limited Edition Collection is perfect for all and just spooky enough for Halloween. Jack's Woods is available through November.
The Story of Jack's Woods
Don't follow the shadows.
Don't enter the woods on the edge of the cornfield.
Don't turn around when you hear the rustle of leaves.
She
knew the stories. Every child in the village grew up knowing that the
woods belonged to Jack. Bedtime stories, fables and farces to make
children do their chores, go to sleep at night, and not stray from their
own farms. Jack will come they said. Jack is waiting. The woods belong
to Jack.
They never
frightened her, even as a child. She always said that the woods may
belong to Jack but I belong to the forest. Barefoot and half wild she
ran through the trees, drank from the crystal springs, and foraged for
the treasures the forest gave to her. There was never a time she did not
walk with bits of the forest clinging to her hair or snagged in her
skirt. Still, she could not deny the unnatural stillness that slid over
the woods as autumn crept on. How the morning mists seemed to linger
longer and longer and how even the trees seemed to slow their somber
sway the nearer Halloween loomed. Never once did even she step a toe
into the woods on that night. Not ever on Halloween night. It was
forbidden, but how she longed to.
October
31st arrived and brought with it no celebrations, no laughter, no
costumes or candy as it did for other towns. In the village by Jack's
Woods, Halloween was celebrated with locked doors, extra candles
burning, and sleepless nights for children who told scary stories and
for the parents who sat quietly watching. They locked themselves in and
they tried to lock out the night, tried to hide away in their sad
gingerbread cottages.
That
night, jarring dreams came to her. Dreams of mist and moonlight,
impossibly deep shadows, and a voice calling to her. She dreamed she was
running, bare feet and wet leaves and then there was the never ending
rows of golden corn. She pushed on and on as the wind seems to call her
name. The corn grew thicker and thicker and darker and darker until she
could no longer see any light and then she was falling.
She
jumped awake, clammy and breathless and not to her small stuffy attic
room but to the dewy grass, pale moonlight, and the woods before
her...watching...waiting. Mist swirled around her and seemed to pluck at
her hair. She only needed to take one step and she would be inside .
The mist tugged and pulled, tiny hands that could not hold. She would
not have been able to resist if she wanted to. She belonged to the
forest. One step and she was in, easily running on paths invisible in
the night. She knew these paths, these were her paths. Along the cold
spring and up the glen. The trees began to thin and the moon began to
peek through bare branches.
That
is when she began to smell it. A warmness on the air, the scent of
chaos and creation. The first embers floated past her and then she saw
the bonfire in the distance. Massive it loomed overhead, both in control
and out of control and at the base she saw figures dancing. Swirling
and laughing they danced through the sweet smoke to music made from
unplayed instruments, adding more and more dead wood to the bonfire. She
wanted to dance. She never wanted anything more. She felt the pull of
the music deep in her chest. As she neared the fire the faces came into
focus. They were her people, the people from the village. The mothers
and fathers, the grandparents, even the children she could now see
weaving and running and cackling with wild abandon. All the people who
were locked away in their sad gingerbread cottages behind heavy wooden
doors. All the people who forbade the forest and the night. They were
here. She let out a laugh of surprise and made her way to join them when
another figure took her notice. Lone, slender, and lithe, he leaned
against the tree, his face in shadow. He was watching her and when he
was sure she saw him he slid into the forest.
She
followed him, stepping over broken pieces of pumpkin all along the way.
He wanted to be followed. He moved through the forest without a sound,
never bending or breaking a twig. It is as if the trees moved for her.
Silently he lead her on and she found no words she wished to speak.
Finally he slowed and as she moved closer to him he held out his hand
behind him never turning to her. She took his hand and with a slight
squeeze he pressed on through the darkness until they came crashing out
to a clearing rimmed with stones and bathed in full moon light. She
stood beside him, on the edge of the circle, hands still grasped, his
face still in shadow. "Do you want to enter the circle?" he asked in a
voice so raspy and heavy it was as if this was his first time speaking.
Still he did not turn to her. Without a word, she stepped into the
circle and pulled him with her. Now he swept her into his arms and held
her close. They twirled and spun in a sweeping dance that she would have
never believed her feet could dance, though, were her feet still
touching the ground? She felt weightless and the more they danced the
more she felt like floating. He looked down into her eyes, his eyes dark
and endless as a wide smile spilled onto his pale porcelain face. He
reached out and pulled a leaf from her wild red hair and let it go to
tumble through the night.
The Fragrances:
Fire roasted pumpkins dusted with cinnamon and clove, charred oud wood
and sandalwood, molten amber, sweet wood ash, and a hint of aged
leather.
A rich and tempting pumpkin spice with a firelit twist.
Warm gingerbread and weathered wood, toasted clove and nutmeg, dried
tonka beans and vanilla pods, black peppercorn and corn husks, and a
sprinkle of sugar musk.
A ginger and spice fragrance like no other, dark and mysterious with untold secrets.
Jack's Woods
Pumpkin and spice in the shade of the dark woods with a touch of
foreboding. Notes of smashed pumpkin, dry autumn grass, charred wood,
black peppercorn, grated ginger, smoked nutmeg, allspice berries,
ambered musk, dry tobacco leaves, and a hint of woodsmoke in the cool
breeze.
A dark spicy fragrance with notes of woodsmoke and dry woods.
Mist and Moonlight
Swirling tendrils of sheer vanilla meet notes of white amber, benzoin,
aged cedarwood, roasted tonka beans, pink peppercorn, and moonlit musk.
A dry vanilla fragrance with notes of white amber and wood.
Stone Circle
Cold October air on mountain stones. Notes of black amber, aged
sandalwood, ozone musk, dried vanilla pods, a touch of moonlight and
magic.
A bracing, unisex fragrance with just a hint of sweet woods.
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Thanks for the great effort you've put into this blog
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