Fragrant Tree Crossword Clue Novels & Stories

A mild floral scent comes after. “I actually did. My mom used to have an orange tree at the pack house when I was little. After she died, no one could tend to it and it withered. Fredrick threw out the stump to make way for some useless gazebo.” A sip has me relaxing my tense shoulders. I take note of the floral taste just like the smell, diluted honey and subtle bitterness in the background. It’s almost unnoticeable. “This is lovely.” “Fredrick is the one who-”

I wasn't in an open field, it was just a wide space covered by trees where I noticed that there was a source of water close by. I untransform and am naked sitting on my feet holding an azalea that I had plucked from the small bush I had. - Look how beautiful they are - Close my eyes and enjoy the fragrance - Fragrant and elegant. - I say happily to Betina, who gives a genuine smile. - Yes my dear. Want your clothes?

You answer my questions and I might answer yours. Her scent was unlike anything I had ever smelled or previously been exposed to.It was like a delicious combination of dragon fruit and cinnamon that reminded me of when I would open a perfectly fragranced tub of lotion that I just could not get enough of, so I would end up constantly smelling it just to get my fix.

The brief contact leaves a tingle of recognition, like reuniting with a part of myself I didn't know was missing. The scents of the orchard envelop me in layers of intoxication. Ripe apples, their sweetness heavy and inviting, mingle with the headier perfume of night-blooming jasmine that coils around the trees' lower branches. Beneath these lies something older and wilder—earth and magic and time itself compressed into fragrance. I breathe deeply, filling my lungs with this intoxicating mixture, and feel something inside me uncoil in response.

Rosemary hedges spill over the fence, thick with resinous scent. Aria’s voice is quiet, almost hesitant. “Did they ever find out who planted the bomb in your grandfather’s car?” I stare into the orchard. Two gray giants plod side by side along the dirt path, hooves thudding in that slow, hypnotic rhythm that could rock the dead to sleep. Their eyelids droop half-shut, tails flicking lazily at the flies, breaths huffing in long, patient sighs. The wagon creaks behind them, piled high with crates, the fruity scent — sharp, green, earthy — mixes with the sweetness of figs and the citrus tang of lemons, spilling into the warm air.

Tamara leaned over the table, gazing at him expectantly. "No, that's not it." Cyrus frowned, putting down the last bottle. "What's wrong?" "That scent..." He paused, as if recalling carefully. "It isn't a single scent. It's more like the fragrance of many different plants blended together. I can't tell exactly what it is—in any case, blended together it's not strong, it's gentle, and it smells really good." Tamara tilted her head in thought and then collapsed face-down onto the table. "Where would you find such a scent? Unless it's someone's natural body fragrance—but who in the world is born with a natural scent like that?"

Franklin replied to my statement “Well, one thing is for sure. The god of the sun sure has a knack for turning his dead lovers into plants and being part of nature. Honestly, I think it is beautiful that even if they are dead, Apollo found a way for them to live on “ Franklin told me that my heart melted. He lends out his hand as he motions and nods his head towards the middle of the field of Hyacinth flowers as I take his hand and both of us run towards it. Under the shade of a single large tree sat a big checkered brown mat full of baskets of fruits and bread, a small table where two glasses of milk sat, there was even a pitcher and jars of honey. A small bundle of yellow tulips was on the

Finally, she took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling for a moment as she pressed her lips together, nodding but more to herself. “There was a tiny house," she crinkled up her nose and closed her eyes, "if you could call it that, more like a cottage or something. You almost wouldn’t notice it because it was hidden amongst trees that were so close together, almost squishing into where it was built.” She cocked her head slightly to one side before she continued, “There was a thick kind of frost covering parts of the ground and lingering on all the tree branches making them look heavy, but there was a floral kind of scent and something sweet,” she looked up at me, “I just can’t tell if the

Tonight was an exception though. Finally, I reached my destination at the edge of the ledge and stretched my hands to grab the branch. The skeleton of the branch looked too weak to take up my weight, but somehow it didn't snap when I got up on it. As soon as I climbed on the tree, the sickly sweet smell of the intoxicating flowers engulfed me in its dreamy cloud. The thick silence in the air was condensed in the surroundings. This made me suspicious. Where are they? "I just need to get off this damn tree and ru…"

I didn’t take a rest until I put the last stone at the top. Looking at the grave, I stood up straight while taking a deep breath. I built my mother’s grave properly well. I knew she was happy about it. As I cleaned my hands in the rain, I smelt this familiar smell a few meters away from us, a mixture of woody, minty, and floral scents. I turned in the direction where it was coming from. “What are you doing here?” I stared at the bigger tree. “And why are you even following me?”