LAST DRINK BY THE BONFIRE: Like the last pour from the bottle before the night wanes and the fire blows out. Spiked with notes of ginger, clove, and the best of old friends.
BEHIND THE UNMARKED DOOR: Like a hidden speakeasy, marked only by the mellow scents of fresh tobacco and patchouli musk from behind the door. Carefree banter echoes inside.
SUNDAY DINNER AT THE GROVE: Like a golden-hour meal in a lemon grove, with charred citrus in the air. The old California woods around us cast jagged shadows across the placemats.
ON THE OPEN DESERT ROAD: Like passing a lone desert pine in the middle of nowhere. A dry breeze of cypress and herbs follows us as the car winds through the landscape.