Christopher Robin was sitting outside his door, putting on his Big Boots. As soon as he saw the Big Boots, Pooh knew that an Adventure was going to happen, and he brushed the honey off his nose with the back of his paw, and spruced himself up as well as he could, so as to look Ready for Anything.

Part nursery dream, part ancient magic. Beneath the dappled sunlight of the Hundred Acre Wood hums something older: the hush of time, the sweetness of honey and kindness, the wisdom of wonder and simplicity, the moss-soft echo of laughter trailing down a timeworn path.

Here live the small gods of childhood: a bear of very little brain, a timid pig, a gloomy donkey, a fussy rabbit, a wise owl, a tiger all bounce and blaze, a patient mother and her precocious child, and the bees, forever busy. Their world is stitched from memory and meadow air, a place of lost afternoons, joyous contentment, and golden jars of honey that never seem to empty.

Each scent in this collection captures a moment of joy, of comfort, of courage, and of melancholy, suspended like amber light in a bottle.

Somewhere in the Wood someone is humming.