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.

Woody

Cedar smells like walking into a freshly opened wooden chest or a pencil sharpener's distinctive aroma—dry, slightly spicy, faintly sweet. Imagine the interior of a cedar wardrobe, that clean, almost resinous scent that repels moths. There's a subtle bitterness too, like the bark of the tree itself, combined with a warm, almost smoky undertone. It's earthy without being dirty, woody without smelling like fresh sawdust. The experience is grounding and slightly nostalgic—many recall childhood pencils and hope chests.