Wooded Trip

"I remember this infinite road which was to take me to the borders of Colorado. A road punctuated by these forests of pines and other cedars which caress the sky as much as their roots capture the ground. Last rampart before giving way to the desert."

This desert where the earth is red and arid. Here, the trees become vestiges. Dry and petrified, they emerge among other carcasses, like masts in this ocean of power.

In the distance, I will join these dizzying canyons where the wind blows its hot air. Variations of ochres, oranges and browns. It is these colors that invite the scents of living wood.

Those of cedar, patchouli and sandalwood. Powerful, strong, almost intoxicating before allowing notes of guaiac wood and nuances of vetiver to linger. And to remember the freshness of the morning that stretches before the burning sun bites again.