Telling the Bees

[doomsday_disco]

Inspired by the John Greenleaf Whittier poem.

 

A red and white scattering of clover, pansy petals and crushed daffodils, a clutch of wild roses, and buzzing hives draped with velvety black musk.

[tajana]

"Telling the Bees," to me, is primarily wildflower honey, anchored to soft black musk that keeps it going for hours.

 

There is a clear, sweet, bright clover honey tone from the bottle, a sharper jab of crushed grass and flower stems that pops on my skin when I freshly apply, and then the meadow-fresh floral nature of the honey takes over. The roses are part of the perfume but they are in the background, indeed like a wild rosebush growing near the beehives you are visiting. I love the use of colors in the official description - red and white, the implication of green and yellow, and velvet black - and if I think of that as I wear it, I can picture an idyllic cottage garden on a sunny day. The bright, sunlit nature of the honey note contrasts and then melds nicely with the plush dark musk base.

 

If you get your hands on Telling the Bees, please give it a moment to rest after getting it out of the mail. Even though I got my bottle secondhand, I wasn't so sure I liked it at all when I tried it on day 1, but when I revisited it a week later it was a keeper that made me nostalgic for a countryside life I've never lived.

 

Bit of a throwback comparison so I'm not sure how useful it will be to you, dear reader, but the honey note reminds me of "Litha," the 2009 edition.

 

I was inspired to review this now because of this year's Spiritus Arcanum scent "Dark Baptism," which is another pretty but unconventional spring floral married to BPAL's lovely black musk.