One of my earliest childhood memories is stepping through the heavy oak doors of our village church with my parents. .The spirit of Christmas was in the air and as silence fell I remember clearly the fragrance of linseed oil and beeswax wax of the pews, the musty paper of antique hymn books opening and the citrus notes of oranges spiked with clove, so symbolic of Christmas time. Those magical nights, are memories of fragrance which stay with you forever.
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