There is a secret place in my life. It’s in another town, somehow related to another life. But it’s my garden. With a tree that was planted when my first son was born, with roses and other flowers from all my previous gardens, including a lemon tree. It’s a garden full of parfumes , beggining with the calycanthus – at it’s best in January – ending with late roses. There is a honwysuckle there and lots of jasmins. I’m also very proud of my osmanthus, a tree that has this peculiar smell of apricot candies.