Crisp leaves, glowing embers, soft smoke — autumnal, intimate, and quietly addictive.
Midnight No. 7.3 opens with the unmistakable scent of fallen leaves — crisp and aromatic, touched with spice and dried greenery. Notes of cinnamon, citrus peel, and chrysanthemum drift through the air like cold leaves underfoot, carrying hints of apple skin and late-season berries. The impression is unmistakably autumnal, but restrained — earthy rather than sweet.
As the candle warms, the heart deepens. Green leaves and orchard fruit soften into a woody base of pecan and cedar, grounding the brightness in something darker and more contemplative. The scent feels outdoorsy and natural, evoking forest paths, cool air, and the quiet stillness of nightfall.
Gradually, a subtle warmth begins to glow. Campfire marshmallow emerges not as sugar, but as memory — toasted softness wrapped in smoke. Ozone and eucalyptus suggest crisp evening air, while embers, oak, and patchouli smolder low beneath the surface. The sweetness is gentle and fleeting, balanced by ash and wood rather than dessert.
The result is a fragrance that lingers like the last light of a fire:
smoky yet soft, nostalgic without sweetness, grounded with a trace of warmth.
Ash & Amber captures the hush of late autumn nights — leaves burning down to ash, smoke clinging to wool, and embers glowing long after the flame has faded. A candle for endings, for stillness, and for the quiet comfort found in what remains.