I dream in songs when I’m hiking Mount Tamalpais, which I affectionately refer to as “the mountain.” I love it so deeply. I’ve lived on this mountain on and off for twenty years, beginning in my late 20s when I did a six-month apprenticeship at Green Gulch, an organic farm and Zen Buddhist center. That farm, 40 acres of delicious wet coastal canyon rolling down to Muir Beach, is the most beautiful place I’ve ever lived. I fell in love with the mountain there, working in those fields, body surfing at Muir beach, hiking in my free time, and then running into the zendo seconds before the start of evening meditation.

About six years ago I moved to a beautiful redwood cabin on the mountain where I really started digging deep. I spent a lot of my time exploring hidden redwood canyons, forgotten meadows, secret swimming holes, and springs bubbling out of the ground. When I’m out exploring, I always have songs in my head. I came up with the Winter Redwood Field Lab perfume because I wanted to capture the smell and feel of the mountain in the middle of a rainy winter; being off trail, breathing in the cool damp air, harvesting mushrooms.

The word “psychedelic” is defined by the Ancient Greeks as “revealing your mind.” This mountain is just deeply psychedelic to me, and so the songs that loop in my head tend to share an evocative folk vibe. So here it is, my psychedelic mountain serenade.