When I was a child, I spent most of my time outdoors. Whether that was riding ponies or helping my grandparents tend their garden. From my grandmother, I found a love for sweet peas, honeysuckle and hydrangeas that dotted the lawn of their house. While I’ve never been much of a grower, my love for the beauty of nature has stayed.
The name petrichor is an ode to my grandfather. On our walks through the garden, he would point out the smell after a typical Irish downpour. Petrichor, the smell of nature after the rain has fallen, is a nostalgic and sentimental memory of two people I loved dearly. And while the rain does come from time to time, there is always beauty in the aftermath.