The opera hall is packed. Diaghilev is presenting his Ballets Russes. Flamboyant Parisians and you are seated in the front row. Wide-eyed, you watch Nijinsky and his soft leather boots. He leaps, he spins, he fills the stage with the bewitching scent of ylang-ylang, violet, and cinnamon enveloping a harmony of cade wood and styrax. You wish that this moment could last forever.