Scent Story Sunday
The Adirondack Chair
A little girl. A summer porch. And the moment she first learned that slowing down wasn't wasting time.
One afternoon, while my dad was inside negotiating over a hand-carved table, I slipped out onto the porch with a cold lemonade.
I climbed into one of those enormous wooden chairs — the wide, wide arms, the deep seat that practically swallowed me whole — and I rested my drink on one side and a cookie on the other. Then I looked out across the lake.
The adults' voices faded away. A breeze rustled through the pines, carrying the smell of fresh wood and just a whisper of woodsmoke. And for the first time all day, my busy little mind went quiet.
| “I had nowhere to be. Nothing to do. Just the lake, the breeze, and my imagination — and somehow, that was everything.” |
Growing Up in the Great Camps
My dad, Bob, was a rustic furniture and Native American art dealer. He spent his days traveling throughout the Adirondacks — buying furniture, baskets, weavings, and artwork from old Great Camps and private collections tucked deep in the mountains.
As a little girl, I often went with him. At the time, those trips weren't exactly my idea of fun. I had to sit quietly. Be on my best behavior. Wait while the adults talked business.
But while my dad negotiated, I got to wander.
Those Great Camps were like nothing else. Giant stone fireplaces that climbed to the ceiling. Tree stumps turned into side tables. Antler chandeliers casting warm light over the rooms. Wide, covered porches overlooking lakes so still you could see the mountains reflected in them.
Everything felt magical. And the people who lived there — I'd sit and invent their whole lives. The adventures they'd had. The stories those old walls held.
Those trips I dreaded became some of my most treasured memories.
The Chair That Claimed Me Back
My dad didn't just buy rustic pieces — he also had natural wood Westport chairs made and sold them. I grew up knowing exactly what a good Adirondack chair felt like. And every time I found one on a porch, I claimed it.
Drink on one arm. Snack on the other. A view of the water or the woods ahead. And nowhere I had to be.
I was a child who often carried anxiety — a busy mind that liked to run ahead of itself and worry about things that hadn't happened yet. But something shifted when I sat in that chair. I felt safe. I felt free. My imagination took over, and my worries simply… disappeared.
The chair didn't do anything. It just held me still long enough for my nervous system to catch up.
| “It held me still long enough for my nervous system to catch up.” |
What the Scent Carries
When I sat down to create Adirondack Chair as a fragrance, I wasn't trying to smell like a camp porch. I was trying to recreate that feeling — that specific, full-body exhale of a child who had nowhere to be.
Pine needle is the first thing you notice — green, crisp, alive. It's the breeze coming off the trees, the kind that makes you take a slow breath without even deciding to.
Ripe peach is summer at its softest — a warmth that feels like afternoon light on your arms, unhurried and generous.
Cedarwood holds it all together — deep, grounding, with just a whisper of the wood the chair itself is made from. It's the smell of stillness.
Together, they take me right back: a summer afternoon, a cool breeze across a quiet lake, the soft sound of water, and not a single thing I need to do.
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This scent belongs to Grounded For when you feel anxious, scattered, or too much in your head. Grounded scents work with your nervous system — not against it — to bring you back to earth. Back to your body. Back to now.
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What It Really Means
The Adirondack Chair isn't really the hero of this story.
It's a symbol of something I learned as a little girl on a camp porch: that slowing down isn't wasting time. It's where peace lives.
So many of our scent stories are about a place — a hike, a lake, a morning on the mountain. This one is about a feeling. The chair is simply the invitation.
Sit down. Slow down. Stay awhile.
I hope every time you light this candle, or step into the body wash, or spray it into a room, it gives you a version of what that porch gave me. A moment to exhale. To let the busy quiet down. To just be exactly where you are.
With love from Lake Placid,
Marcy
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Shop This Story Find your porch chair moment.
Also available as body wash, hand soap, lotion & room spray. |
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Adirondack Chair Pine needle · Ripe peach · Cedarwood |