Petrichor, Rain-Soaked Woods, and Damp Earth
Breathe in the unmistakable scent of petrichor—that eerie, rain-drenched aroma rising from soil after a storm. Fresh Grave captures the chilling stillness of a cemetery after rainfall: notes of wet earth, moss-covered stone, and damp forest floor mingle to conjure the scent of something freshly unearthed.
This gothic candle is steeped in decay and silence, created for those who find beauty in the morbid. It smells like a grave newly opened—or one that was never sealed.
Each candle comes with a short horror story, and this one tells of a body once held in a dead-house, kept cold until the ground thawed. But when the gravedigger returns in spring, the corpse is no longer where it was left.
Light Fresh Grave and let the petrichor-soaked air summon the dreadful possibility: perhaps the dead don’t rest as peacefully as we like to believe.
Wet Ground
Rainy Woods
Petrichor
- Phthalate Free
- cruelty free
- vegan
- sustainably-sourced wick
wooden wick candle care tips
wooden wick candle care tips
- Always trim your wood wick before each light! Simply pinch off the charred wood from the previous light, or use a wick trimmer for a cleaner cut. Wicks should be about 1/4" each time the candle is lit. The most common reason for wood wick candles not staying lit is a wick that is too long.
- In order to ensure your candle will not tunnel over time, give your candle ample time to melt to the edge the first time you light it. This can take up to 4 hours
- remember not to light the candle near anything flammeble: fabrics, curtains, house plants, etc. Keep candle away from pets and children. Do not light for longer than 4 hours at a time. Be careful handling candle when it is lit as the jar can be very hot.
Let me tell you a story...
On a dreary spring afternoon, with the sky as pale as the eyes of the dead, the kirkyard groundskeeper wipes his brow with the back of a dirty hand. Now that the ground has thawed enough, the corpses stored in the dead-house all winter can finally be laid to rest.
The crows caw loudly overhead as he jabs his shovel into the pile of dirt next to the fresh hole in the ground. “That looks deep enough” he mutters as he turns and trudges toward the cold stone structure to retrieve the first body. Old Mary Murphy had passed shortly after the first snowfall in November, and now, after months of waiting, her grave was finally ready. He notices the door is already open, as if broken from the inside, and a sharp gust of cold air, tinged with the faint scent of decay, hits him.
Inside the dead-house, the space where Mary Murphy had lain for all these months is empty.
the spring sceam collection!
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