Campfire Stories

The fire's been going for hours. Nobody's keeping track anymore.

It started as a proper fire — stacked and tended and purposeful. But that was a while ago. Now it's coals mostly, orange and patient, the kind of fire that doesn't need anything from you. Someone brought marshmallows out earlier and the bag is still sitting on the arm of a chair. The conversation slowed down the way good conversations do, into the comfortable kind of quiet where nobody feels the need to fill it. The smoke is in your jacket. You'll smell it tomorrow and not mind at all.

Vanilla and amber are what you notice first — warm and easy, nothing sharp about them, the smell of the fire when it's still new and giving off real heat. Sugar and sandalwood settle in underneath as it settles down, sweet but grounded, the way the evening itself gets quieter as it goes. Then cedar and clove move into the base — the smoke that clings to everything by the end of the night, the part that's still there when you close your eyes.

Sweet where it needs to be, smoky where it counts — this is the fire at the end of the evening, when nobody wants to be the first to go inside.

Hand-poured in small batches in Iowa, using a natural soy wax blend. Clean melt, steady fragrance release.

Best Used In: Living rooms, bedrooms, and covered porches — anywhere the evening is meant to slow down and stay that way. Best in small to medium spaces where the warmth builds gradually and holds.