Citrus

Calamondin smells like a brighter, sharper cousin of mandarin—imagine biting into a small, intensely acidic citrus fruit on a humid tropical morning. There's a piercing green-orange zestiness, almost lime-like in its tartness, but with creamy, waxy undertones reminiscent of bitter orange peel. It's less sweet than orange and more austere than lemon; imagine the puckering brightness of seville orange crossed with the green, slightly herbaceous snap of unripe citrus. The aroma is simultaneously juicy and dry, with a faint floral whisper.

Woody

Rosewood smells like walking through a freshly sanded furniture workshop—warm, creamy, and gently sweet, but distinctly wooden rather than floral. Imagine the aroma of a pencil shaving mixed with subtle cinnamon warmth and a whisper of something almost creamy, like sandalwood's mellower cousin. It's soft and approachable, lacking harshness; rather like inhaling the scent of polished mahogany with a touch of honeyed spice underneath. There's an inherent smoothness that feels both elegant and grounding.