Citrus

Bergamot smells like someone's just peeled a ripe orange in bright morning sunlight—that initial burst of citrus sweetness combined with something distinctly floral and almost tea-like. It's lighter and more delicate than lemon or grapefruit, with a subtle bittersweet edge and a powdery, slightly herbaceous undertone that lingers. Imagine Earl Grey tea without the tannins, mixed with candied orange peel and a whisper of honeyed florals. It's simultaneously fresh and warm, crisp yet creamy.

Green

Oakmoss smells like standing in an ancient forest after rain—earthy, slightly bitter, with a dry, woody undertone reminiscent of damp bark and lichen-covered stones. There's a faint greenness to it, almost herbaceous, mixed with something mineral and slightly musty, like opening a wooden chest that's been sealed for years. It's not fresh or sharp; rather, it's contemplative and deeply grounded, with whispers of leather and tea leaves underneath.