Woody

Cypress smells like walking through a Mediterranean forest on a crisp autumn morning. It's dry and slightly resinous, reminiscent of pencil shavings and cedarwood, but with a distinctly herbaceous, almost minty freshness that catches the back of your nose. There's an underlying earthiness—the smell of weathered wood and dry leaves—mixed with a subtle piney sweetness. It's not heavy or oppressive; rather, it's clean and grounding, with a whisper of incense-like smokiness that feels both ancient and somehow austere.

Woody

Imagine walking through damp earth after rain, then crushing dried autumn leaves in your hands. That's patchouli's essence: earthy, almost animalic, with a subtle sweetness lurking underneath. It smells vaguely like rich soil mixed with dried tobacco and a whisper of chocolate. There's a dark, slightly musty quality—think opening an antique wooden chest. It's grounding and intensely aromatic, never delicate. Fresh patchouli has peppery brightness; aged patchouli becomes deeper, warmer, almost leather-like.