Perched Above the Tundra

Snowy Owl opens with cold, frost-glazed earth, where sparse green life presses through ice. The soiliness is clear but restrained, softened by faint florals and muted greenery.

From here, the scent barely moves. Instead, it settles into a static landscape best understood through colour: a lilac sky fading into icy blue, flecked with moss green and hazy brown.

Despite its promise of tundra exploration, Owl leaves me feeling somewhat unfulfilled. The coconut and mint - usually such prominent, distinguishable notes - remain elusive, completely overshadowed by the dominant oakmoss and musk.

Over time, the soiliness gradually recedes, replaced by a faint floral-woody presence, with the barest whisper of vanilla attempting to balance things out. But the balance never truly arrives - it remains spiky and angular.

Our lethargic little owl stays perched in his dusty alpine nest, indifferent to the sweet florals and deep woods lying just metres below. We, like the owl, become suspended in cold stone and icy stillness - observing, but never fully arriving.