Nuée Bleue was imagined as the calm before the storm. In the heart of the cloud blows the humid freshness. Already you can hear the tender rolling of the orange blossom and the zesty clacking of the lemon. In the distance, behind the iridescent vapours, the gold dust of the cashmeran sparkles in the infinite. Soon the musk of the clouds will encompass the tops of the sandalwood trees and the air, in the sweet hour, will gorge itself with the Nuée Bleue.
