Woody

Cistus absolute smells like sun-baked earth after a Mediterranean heatwave—dusty, warm, and slightly resinous with an almost leathery quality. Imagine the scent of hot rock and dried herbs (somewhere between sage and hay), wrapped in a soft, amber-like sweetness. There's something ancient and mineral about it, reminiscent of incense smoke clinging to stone walls, with subtle hints of honey and tobacco leaf. It's grounding without being heavy—more like breathing in the warmth of a hillside than sitting in a forest.

Floral

Turkish Rose smells like walking through a sun-warmed garden after rain—intensely floral, with a slightly spiced, almost peppery undertone that sets it apart from delicate rose notes. Imagine crushed rose petals mixed with honey and a whisper of cloves; it's rich and full-bodied, neither cloying nor thin. There's an almost wine-like warmth to it, slightly animalic and earthy, as if you've buried your face in a bouquet of the most mature, voluptuous blooms imaginable. It feels luxurious and old-world, rather than the fresh, dewy quality of lighter florals.