Archipelago Botanicals Black Forest Letter Press Candle - Dark Ebony Wood, Douglas Fir & Black Currant Scent - Clean-Blend Soy Wax Candle in Leather-Like Wrap Jar - Long-Lasting 100-Hour Burn - 13 oz

Douglas fir and black currant candle. Smells really nice! This is an expensive candle but it smells great and burns slow. Really fills the house with scent.

smells greatGreat fancy candlewould be a great gift

Absolutely beautiful scent that is so graceful and special. I love this brand and will definitely buy more from it !

Smell is absolutely on point and it looks awesome

These are pricey candles, but the fragrance is like nothing I've ever smelled. The candle seems to burn longer than most candles by several hours for this size and the fragrance lingers into the next day. Love Archipelago candles, worth the money. Highly recommend.

I do not have a ton to say here, other than this candle is perfect for a discerning man who is looking to spruce up the smells in his living space.

As I light this candle and watch the charred wick quickly absorb it's glowing ember, it is against the languor of another misbegotten Ibiza evening that I begin to slowly remember a fateful August afternoon when I finally threw down my rosary beads and picked up that damned bottle of self tanner, thus turning away from a path in my life that had been sanctified by spiritual enlightenment and a chaste commitment to a so-called higher calling. Yes my friends, I remember squeezing into the tightest pair of cutoffs I could find and then pile-driving head first into one sensual misadventure after the other, the evenings no longer sought distinction from each other and the shade of of my life pattern which began to materialize had become darker than any cassock or clergy jacket that had once spiritually fit my now very lithe body. How strange it is now to remember a time, and just barely, when perhaps I would have had to look the word "concubine" up in a dictionary, and yet there I was for most of 2013 living in the drywall, yes my friends with great reluctance I say drywall, behind the drywall of a well appointed pied-à-terre which belonged to a very well known professional wrestling magnate, who now serves with some distinction in the Trump administration. My whole sordid existence at the time was dictated by the vagaries of a very no-nonsense American business woman's "needs." In that wall my life had been reduced to what I heard from the outside, a series of simple knocks devised by the aforementioned lady of the house could often mean the difference between bathing and eating or crouching in tormenting silence for hours on end, as not to disturb the tranquility of deception when her husband was in town. It was after several months, when my eyes were beginning to take on temporary blindness from no sunlight and through a sort of mental delirium that was beginning to manifest itself in hushed barks whenever I heard human speaking through the drywall, that I began to drift back toward my humanity. I believe at that time my only sense that remained was the one of smell, and through the small vent above me I began to make out the scent of this very candle. Without light or vision, it softly illuminated something that should have been abundantly clear all along. With the small earmark of strength that remained I eventually punched my way out of that wretched condominium, that two-bedroom Satyricon, and with those two hands which had been those of a sensualist and now of a strangler, I grabbed a hold of my freedom and only look back whenever the commiserate aroma of this candle finds itself in my now strange and quite unspeakable presence.