Woody

Bamboo smells like a freshly split green stalk—clean, slightly sweet, and whisperingly woody. Imagine stepping into a Japanese forest after rain: that crisp, almost papery freshness mixed with subtle earthiness. There's a delicate, almost juicy quality reminiscent of fresh-cut grass and pale green vegetation, with hints of mineral coolness (like licking smooth river stones). It's remarkably understated—not heavy or perfume-y, but rather like the quiet, breathing quality of living wood.

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.