Citrus

Paraguayan petitgrain smells like freshly peeled bitter orange—imagine the sharp, green-tinged brightness you get when you've just snapped a Seville orange's waxy skin between your fingers. It's crisp and slightly herbaceous, with an almost leafy undertone, less sweet than regular orange oil and more austere. There's a delicate floral whisper beneath, reminiscent of fresh-cut green stems or spring garden leaves after rain. It's simultaneously zesty and refined, with a candied edge that feels almost vintage.

Green

Sage smells like stepping into a Mediterranean herb garden on a warm afternoon. It's dry, slightly peppery, and vaguely medicinal—reminiscent of the leaves you'd brush past while walking through wild scrubland. There's an earthy, almost dusty quality, with subtle woody undertones and a whisper of camphor that catches the back of your nose. It's green without being fresh or citrusy; instead, it feels weathered and wise, like the plant itself has absorbed years of sunlight and been slightly baked by heat.