Earth

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  • Scent Notes
    If you’ve ever wanted to smell downright earthy, this multilayered blend of all things dirty, woody, and spicy is for you. Atlas cedarwood, cassia, carrot seed oil, dirty amber, allspice, and dank balsam peru combine into a scent we’d describe as delightfully filthy.
  • Description
      She wanted to feed the community, teach sustainability, teach children how to grow their own food. But the price of property kept going up, and up, in this city where the housing market bubble should have popped more than ten years ago. Dawn used these thoughts as fuel as she harvested artichokes, beets, and carrots from her community plot. She’d just finished pulling up the carrots when she got the feeling that she was being watched. Scared, she looked up to see … Dawn had been up since her namesake time, working hard in one of her gardens. Though she lived in a major urban city center, that had never stopped her from planting and growing. She’d always had a major green thumb, heck, a whole green arm, and while she could’ve used her talents to grow rare flowers and sell them for lots of money, that was not in her nature. She was the embodiment of an earthly spirit that had passed down from her family through the generations. Her own mother, bless her, did not inherit it and could barely keep the grass in the back of their house in the city (the small patch of it that they considered their “yard”) alive. That same grass was now a small but absolutely thriving garden under Dawn’s care, having inherited the house when her mom left this earthly plane. She had a community garden space where she could really flex her growing muscles. It was almost a shame that she lived in the city, but it’s where she grew up, and where she felt most at home. So she did what she could in the spaces she could do it in. Her real dream was to open her own community garden, and she was so close to having enough funds to buy the property. She wanted to feed the community, teach sustainability, teach children how to grow their own food. But the price of property kept going up, and up, in this city where the housing market bubble should have popped more than ten years ago. Dawn used these thoughts as fuel as she harvested artichokes, beets, and carrots from her community plot. She’d just finished pulling up the carrots when she got the feeling that she was being watched. Scared, she looked up to see … the smiling face of Damien, her neighbor, watching her curiously. Damien was about ten years old, by Dawn’s estimate, and a very shy, sweet kid. She suspected his family was food insecure, and had begun to leave baskets of fruit, vegetables, and herbs on their stoop. “Hi Damien,” she said quietly. “It’s very early, the sun isn’t even up yet. What are you doing here?” He smiled and said, “I know it’s you leaving the food for us, and I wanted to thank you and also see how you do … this.” He waved his hand in the general vicinity of her plot, which was easily the most successful one in the community garden. “Well, come on over, and let’s talk some dirt.” She explained she had a gift, but all it did was help out what was already growing, it didn’t magically make food sprout out of the ground. Proper gardening techniques still needed to be followed to allow things to grow the way they should grow, just the way humans should grow: healthy, stable, and strong. Damien nodded and listened in earnest, and helped her carry her bounty back home. Of course, she shared the vegetables with him, and told him to stop by anytime he wanted to learn more. The very next day, Damien knocked on her door, equipped with a little notepad, ready to learn anything she was willing to teach him about plants, gardening, vegetables, flowers, whatever. He was a fast learner, and she was more than happy to teach him all her secrets. Damien showed up at her house or at her community garden plot nearly every day for months. He helped plant, harvest, prepare garden beds, weed, water, put out insect traps…. Anything she asked him to do, he did gladly, and took extensive notes as to why he was doing things. It was wonderful to witness him becoming confident in this skill, and within a year he was successfully co-managing her plot with her, and giving tips to other community garden members, who took his advice to great garden prosperity. Dawn surprised him by buying him the plot next to hers in the community garden for his eleventh birthday. Damien was so grateful, he hugged her and cried for a solid five minutes. Years passed, and Damien’s plot grew even faster than Dawn’s did. He started providing food and flowers to the community: to other food insecure individuals, to food banks, and even had a small “pay what you can” booth in the farmer’s market a few months of the year. He wasn’t trying to make money, however, he just genuinely loved taking care of his plots (as the years passed, he owned several plots in several community gardens, in addition to a few gardens in the yards of friends and relatives) and caring for the people around him. He and Dawn still worked together regularly; she loved helping him flourish, and one could often be found helping the other. Dawn made sure he kept going to school, and often helped during the week when he was in class. Damien made it up to her by showing up early on weekends to help her and work on his own plots. More time passed. Dawn became too old to garden regularly, and then was diagnosed with several types of arthritis that made gardening basically impossible. Damien’s family had long since moved out of the neighborhood. Damien still came by every few weeks to give her flowers and produce, but her own plots withered, and eventually she sold her spot at the community garden. She could feel her spirit slowly leaving, vanishing with the breeze out and into the very earth it had come from. She spent most of her time indoors, hiding from the world in the only house she’d ever known. And then, one day, a knock sounded at the front door. She wasn’t totally surprised to see Damien, though she couldn’t remember the last time he had shown up. “Miss Dawn, I have something wonderful to show you. Are you free to come with me somewhere special?” She nodded, gathered her purse, keys, and cane, and left the house with Damien. They got in the car, and as he drove them to wherever the destination was, he told her about his life. He still lived in the city, but a different, more up-and-coming part on the outskirts of the city. He was engaged, with a son on the way, and his life’s work was gardening. His small stand at the farmer’s market had become a huge one, then his own farm about a half hour drive away. Dawn was so thrilled for him, honored to have been a part of his journey. They pulled up somewhere in the city that Dawn didn’t recognize; just how long had she been inside her house, pitying herself, anyway? Damien offered her his arm, and they walked a little bit up to a beautiful, thriving community garden the size of two city blocks. “This is amazing, Damien,” she said quietly. “Who did this?” He looked at her with shiny, tear-filled eyes. “You did,” he said, and squeezed her hand. That’s when she noticed the sign above the gate. It read: “Dawn’s Community Garden: Food and Love for All Who Need It.”

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