Smells like bare feet on trampled grass, the distant thrum of bass and bodies in rhythm. Smoke curls toward a violet sky as music spills across the fields as freely as the joints being passed around. You’re wrapped in borrowed denim, daisy chains in your hair, surrounded by strangers who feel like home. In the haze of harmony and freedom, as you sing along to your favourite song, you remember what it means to feel alive.

notes of indic.a bud, cypress, and violet leaf.