Woody

Fir smells like standing in a dense evergreen forest after rain—crisp, resinous, and slightly sharp. Imagine crushing fresh pine needles between your fingers, then inhaling deeply; you get that bright, almost minty freshness mixed with a woody dryness. There's a hint of turpentine's pungency, but gentler, warmer. It's clean without being soapy, green without being grassy. Think of the smell clinging to your clothes after a winter walk through coniferous woodland.

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.