Fresh

Cucumber smells like crisp, watery freshness—imagine biting into a chilled slice on a hot summer's day, that clean, almost juicy greenness that fills your nose. It's herbaceous but gentle, with a subtle sweetness and a watery quality that feels cooling on the skin. There's no perfume or powder here; it's the smell of a cucumber's flesh itself—green, slightly earthy, and distinctly refreshing without any sharpness.

Woody

Woody notes smell like the heart of a forest distilled into liquid form. Imagine walking through an ancient woodland after rain—that deep, earthy richness underfoot, mixed with the slightly resinous warmth of tree bark and aged timber. There's a dryness to it, reminiscent of pencil shavings or cedar chests, yet simultaneously warm and comforting, like sitting by a fireplace in a cabin. Not sharp or medicinal, but grounding and structural—the olfactory equivalent of solid wood supporting a building.