No. 101 smells like the wild backyards of Reykjavik. It captures the short, bright summer days that never seem to end. Think of city life, sounds of a nearby party, and the smell of the earth. Fingers digging up sorrel and dandelions. Then, winter comes. Snow falls on a forgotten trampoline. [Black currants](/note/blackcurrant) drop from bare branches. This is a journey through [green](/style/green) and [fruity](/style/fruity) worlds.
