About Hazel Fern Scents

In the year 2006, I began crafting simple offerings of wax and oil — candles, melts, soaps — shaped not merely by hand, but by memory and longing. What began as gifts for family and friends soon revealed itself as something deeper: a quiet practice of conjuring time itself. One of my earliest incantations, Helen’s Kitchen, rose from stories of my grandmother’s hearth — spiced apple pie and cream, a fragrance stitched from the memory of hands working dough and the hush of late autumn afternoons. Even then, I knew: scent was a vessel, a key to lost doors. As Hazel Fern Scents grew, so did my devotion to the unseen art of remembrance. Perfumes, incense, and balm followed — each a fragment of spirit made tangible. I have long believed that fragrance is a threshold: a liminal space where memory, dream, and desire meet. A single wisp of scent can summon entire seasons. In 2011, when I opened my shop at the Michigan Renaissance Festival, Hazel Fern stepped fully into the light — and into shadow. Each piece I create is a quiet working: part offering, part spell. A weaving of scent, story, and spirit meant to anchor beauty, sorrow, hope, and memory into the bones of everyday life. Hazel Fern Scents remains a living journal — a place where fragrance is not merely crafted, but conjured. Welcome to the threshold. Read their story