I remember the snowy forests of my childhood and their magical perfumes, these scents of pine needles, undergrowth, green buds ... These winters when evening came, it was a great celebration: my mother lit candles, luminous, magical, which burned for a long time in the sweetness of the night. And I closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of the resinous wood of the pines and my beloved forest. With lacquered wooden cover.