Meo Fusciuni Last Season


Collage by Danu Meo Fusciuni Last Season, Bas van den Eijkhof – Unsplash, Andreas Rasmussen – Unsplash, Arnd Jan Luters – Unsplash

What is Nature but the peace of your heart”

In a remote place, passing through silent woods and natural shadows, I closed my eyes and thought:

What does the voice of Nature smell like?

Imagine the world suddenly discovering itself to you, through the forests, the water of the Baltic, the light

filtering through the leaves of centuries-old trees. Imagine hearing for the first time and forever the voice of

the earth.

I saw a distant world,

in the stillness of woods and waters.

The silence was broken

by the voice of the white swan,

by the flight of the grey heron.

There is a world in which we no longer see ourselves,

but only the beauty that surrounds us.

We are nothing, but we listen to the essence of the world.

That end, that boundary,

I found it here.  Last Season – Meo Fusciuni


Meo Fusciuni Giuseppe Imprezzabile

Meo Fusciuni (Giuseppe Imprezzabile) Photo Danu Seith-Fyr, Colourised by Michelyn.

Meo Fusciuni always takes us on the most unexpected journeys, inhale one of his creations and all our raw states of being human are bought to the surface, a verity, a beauty revealed. Giuseppe has the ability to tenderly reach into the soul of nature and draw forth corded strands, like keys to forgotten locks, allowing us to return to a lost place, glimpsing beyond sight, to listen beyond sound and to sense beyond feeling and emotion. An explorer out beyond the edges of our emotional blindfolds.

Human beings need nature, not as a resource to provide the basic elements of survival but we need connection with her, with her beauty and harmony. We cannot deny the connection, how often do we pass through her unseeing and turn to her only in our moments of need. But, turn to her, we do, when we have need of peace, of solace, of nourishment of soul, of retreat. In almost all cases, the perfumes of the collection of Meo Fusciuni move me deeply, often to tears as they sunder me open in tenderest terms. Meo Fusciuni Last Season is no exception, immersing me in a profound emotional voyage which has as its core, the peace contained in nature.

Last Season Meo Fusciuni


Meo Fusciuni Last Season is a call to return, a sure and silent stillness that reverberates in me in great, raw and primordial waves yet at the same time is the minutiae of nature’s myriad forms in that pristine place.  Inspired by his travels to Sweden, a meditative experience in a land untouched, where the voices of nature are still heard if one dissolves into listening. To hear with all senses open, when the wind rises and carries us aloft, when the raindrops douse and rinse away our artifice, when we fall surrendered, yielding into her.

Emergent Bloodroot, Google images

I enter unhindered into the immensity of forest, a sacred grove awash with grandeur and simplicity, dense and darkly comforting, this raw and unimpeded scent jolts me awake, aware of every single nuance in this place, I am in essence, stripped bare, as I began, as I shall end. Mosses and lichen draw my feet into their depths, the scent of darkly stained earth rising from below, rocks wetted, engaged life on every surface. Shafted sunlight rains down with airs of wafted verdancy. It is wholly appropriate that earth is the first impression of Last Season as it is the place of our beginning, holding life and death in its very substance.  The depths written in the components of Meo Fusciuni Last Season run like veins carrying life-giving liquid to all its aspects, a patchouli and vetiver combination with castoreum and oud that is life, earthbound fertility and humid returning. This pulse in unwavering in the composition, all other aspects open around it, akin to deep roots from where all else emerges. Winds on skin carry the scent of vegetation in all phases, the emergent straining of the new shoot, the swollen bud of all potential, the verdancy of fresh green leaves, infants drawn to the sun, the shifting seas of summer grasses bent to the rhythm of breezes encapsulated in mate, golden hay and cistus, herbal infused notes rise from where my feet fall, a bouquet of immortelle, chamomile, artemisia and pine, familiar and warming to my humanness, a comfort that emerges from a long distant past. Meo Fusciuni Last Season calls me homeward with each inhalation.

Meo Fusciuni Last Season

 Casey Horner, Unsplash

The lingering chord of earthiness parts a little as my feet sink into earthy flesh, my knees give way and I press my self into her layers as a lover searching for union with the beloved, imprinting my face with her patterns of mossy remnants, I could lie here forever and slowly become one with it all, dappled with sunshot shade beneath this greening veil.  Out beyond the forest’s vale, the silvered Arcadian streams gather pace and sing of a shore, vast and immense where nature has other voices to hear. Rocks full of tales, whispered aeons of time written upon their weathered faces, the scent of salted algae, a salinity that is a tingling of sea spray on my skin, passage of ozonic power, I stand in awe. Meo Fusciuni Last Season requires of us a slowing, make each step on nature’s palette last a lifetime, each breath a cycle of lunar proportions, each blink of your eye a setting of the sun.


In this meditation, there is much to hear, the murmurs of primordial immortality lapping at my world-imposed fringes. Within Meo Fusciuni Last Season, is peace, raw and cleansed of all distraction and pretense, edgy and tempestuous. The tranquility of this elemental tryst absolves me of all that obstructs me from my union with nature. Meo has created a magnificent paradox of nature, wild, raw and untamed yet swathed in a grace and beauty that we long for.

A rite of vulnerable reunion with our essential nature, our longing given voice. Peace, the echoing answer.

Last Season by Meo Fusciuni

Last Season Meo Fusciuni, Danu Seith-Fyr

Notes: immortelle, chamomile, artemisia, laurel, Canadian pine, Galbanum, alga fucus, mate, hay, cistus, costus, vetiver, labdanum, sandalwood, patchouli, oakmoss, tobacco, cedar, guaiacum, musk, birch, myrrh, olibanum, leather, oud, castoreum.

Danu Seith-Fyr, Contributor

My gracious thanks to Meo Fusciuni for the gift of a bottle of Last Season, my words are my own.

Last Season by Meo Fusciuni

courtesy of the brand

Thanks to the generosity of Meo Fusciuni we have a 100ml bottle of Last Season for a registered reader in the EU and USA. You must register or your entry will not count. To be eligible, please leave a comment saying what sparks your interest based on Danu’s review of Last Season and where you live. Draw closes 2/28/2024

If you are attending Esxence please visit Meo Fusciuni M42-M44

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Enjoy: Sr. Editor Nicoleta Tomsa Meo Fusciuni Parfums Sogni, Narcotico and Viole Nere,  Contributor Danu Seith-Fyr’s Notturno, L’Oblio, Little Song and Spirito, former editor Elena Cvjetkovic of The Plum Girl Varanasi, Deputy Editor Ida Meister’s Encore du Temps, UK Ambassador & Senior Editor Karl Topham’s Meo Fusciuni  3 You Should Be Wearing and Contributor JWearescentient Luce.

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