The Liturgy of the Hours An ancient Roman chapel in the south of Italy or a secluded monastery among the fragrant hills of Greece... here, time does not matter. There is only eternity. On the cold stone slabs, whose glaze has been worn away by centuries, the burning caress of the Mediterranean summer exalts an infinite, almost sacred love. Suspended in the air is a scent of mysticism and mystery that reveals a passionate, almost violent, longing. Timeless aromas of incense, olibanum, and myrrh sublimate this impetuous passion.Nose: Jacques Flori