The scent of pine brings me back to childhood, wandering in a swath of bush that we called a forest. We scuffed our shoes among the needles and duff, playing at adventures. Later, we used those same retreats to pursue the sordid curiosities of adolescence, but the scent of pine today erases those missteps and brings back innocence and wonder.
That’s the scent that bring Christmas home
The tree
the wreath on the door
the centerpiece on the table
the fireplace as it heats up for the oak logs to follow
and it’s the scent of spring
first trips to the woods
to bring out the naturalist
in each of us.
Kevin
The smell of pine trees makes me think of camping. It smells like the woods. It helps me breath deeper and better. Smells like fresh air. I love the smell of pine in the morning when I first wake up. Many things are made from pine wood.
Simon Woodard
They asked him to stop thinking about her, they ordered him. He told them that he couldn’t stop thinking about her- her eyes, her smile, the way they were together. He still pined after her.
Jane Doe
The resin covered patches of his hands. He couldn’t wash it off, it being 19th century western America without modern soap. How did he get here?
ml
The pines spoke to him. It was the winds he thought, no different from the breath through a flute. the rustling and swishing of needles upon needles as the gusts took hold, one breeze dancing through thousands. Maybe in that moment, when the trees spoke they’d speak of clarity, maybe they’d speak of hope.
Justin
It was amazing really, how evocative the words on a page could be. She could smell the pine clearly, the pine that daring Riley Parkins had traipsed through on an adventure. Then a bit of snow landed on her arm. It was mid-july.
Grace
The snow was thick and soft, the trees gently brushing against her. She inhaled. Pine and snow, a scent that was at the same time so familiar and so foreign. She heard a noise behind her; not the quick snap of a twig but the cracking of a larger branch.
Grace
you pine for the seasons just like
you pine for the wind, the way it sinks
into your skin heavy like musk. pine is like elm
soft and quiet, hazy. close your eyes and encircle
the trunk of the tree, like a memory, like a daydream
that never ends. a slick november, the fingertip of the rings.
The pine trees grow tall here in Canada the grow so tall sometimes you cant even see the top.But if you just sit in a pine tree forest on a spring day you’ll hear the birds singing and see the squirrels jumping. But if you listen very carefully you’ll here them talk to you, yes the trees as the wind wisps thru there leave you here them call your name.
Rebecca
A week after the operation, she was rolled her out of the hospital and back into the world. Though she could no longer see, she could feel the warmth of her husband’s sweaty palms gripping her squeaky wheelchair. She could feel the soft wind caressing her eyelids, flowing into one ear and leaking out the other. And she could smell the fragrance of pine leaves in this wind, the fragrance accompanied by a soft crushing underneath her temporary feet.
The smell dances about the air, spinning and twirling in content. Its smell brings even the Earth to life. So beautiful, so natural.
I wonder what its like to take it everywhere I go, on my hair, on my clothes, like I wear it upon my shoulder so delicately. And hopefully you’ll see the world in the colors of my eyes the way I mistake your smile for stars in the sky.
Kayla
It’s kind of spiky, why do people like the smell? I guess it’s kind of nice, but what’s the big deal? Does it remind people of christmas? Or forests? Living in the woods? Camping? What does it remind them of?
Pine scent, pine tree, Pine Sol. So much Pine Sol. I didn’t see the connection between the three, at all. But still she kept spraying it, trying to make the dead tree come to life, to have some semblance of the fragrance it once kept.
Libbydibbs
I have pined for excellence throughout my life. I trie hard but may be i dindt posess the raw talent. I wish i was a bit more talented to be able to see my ambitions thorugh to the end. i do thank god for making me what i am today.
Mohd Atif Siddiqui
Pine is a smell that I relate to Christmas. It always brings a sense of comfort when I walk into someone’s home and the aroma hits me like a warm kiss.
“In the pines, in the pines, where the sun don’t ever shine…” The song crooned out of a small turn dial tv sitting in the corner of the filthy, blood stained apartment. Jeremiah looked at the TV and saw a blond singer with an acoustic guitar sitting on a stool. He looked like he needed a shower. Jeremiah didn’t know who the singer was was, but he didn’t like him. He sneered at the TV before he shot two 9mm rounds into it.
There was a baby pine tree that I almost passed up on at the nursery. We underestimate the small. We forget that we couldn’t have big without small’s contrast.
Lauren Harris
This word reminds me of Main. Ahh walking through the woods is one of my favorite things to do there. There is a little cottage where we stay right in the middle of a beautiful field.
Nobody.
Chess has been in love with Hatter for centuries.He knows it, the Knave knows it, hell, even Umber knows it. It seems everyone but Hatter himself knows- and laughs- at the Jack of Spades.
I inhaled it deeply and felt as it escaped past my small hairs and entered my nasal cavity. It was all I smelt when I saw her like christmas morning except there were no presents underneath the tree just disappointment and a lack of trust.
Samantha Kelly
pineapple pine trees.. something tasty something solid .. pine cant be mine .. bad rhyming but at this time nothing solid and tasty is mine :(
tuhina
Pine Tree was shaking in the winds. It was tall and strong. It had endured many storms.
I pine for your love. I pine for your attention and all your affection. I pine to be yours and no one else’s. I pine for you to let me love you and know you in ways no one else does. I pine to be with you forever, until the end. I pine for you.
Courtney Montanye
I used to chew pine needles on the golf course with my grandpa. It didn’t occur to me until I was an adult that maybe he liked gin. I still think of him every time I smell a pine tree or have a gin and tonic. I miss you Bumpy…
Whitney
“I can smell pine,” I told her as she held the unlit candle up to my face. “I can smell sugar and vanilla and caramel held to a flame. I can smell the tundra and the waterfalls and the surging river below.”
“Okay, babe,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I get it. You’re not into it.”
I blinked. “No, for real, though,” I replied. “I can smell all of that. Like, the odor changes every time you breathe in.”
Belinda Roddie
for you
but not for you
not the being and the thoughts that are you
but the way you made me feel
when I saw myself in your eyes
a guise to be sure but a reflection
that made me feel whole and sure
that I was pure enough for someone else
besides myself
I am always me
Alone for eternity
but with you I am whole
with you I am alive
Julia Thompson
Pine is fresh, pine is nice. Pine is the smell of forests green and brown and multicoloured, refreshing winds and cool places. Pine is where Heidi lived; it is where many children play.
Ressa Francis
pine. the tree was tall, and smelled like home. she was there with me when we moved into the house, where it took up the yard and yearned for the sky’s warm embrace. i can wrap my arms around it and pretend she’s there.
The slender spindle rose toward the sky like his longing in the night. “This tree gets it,” he thought. “He knows what it is for his love to be unreachable.”
ml
The lone pine tree stood at the top of the hill. All around it, there was just rock, scrubby vegetation and dust.
“There used to be a forest here,” Mara’s father told her.
“What happened?” He never talked about the past so she tried not to sound too eager.
He gave a short cough, like a laugh, then his face grew stern again. “What didn’t happen? Pollution, climate change, short-sighted politicians.” He fell silent and Mara knew that the moment for sharing had passed.
“Why do you that tree is still there?” She asked.
He stood up and brushed off his pants, then hefted his pack. “Won’t be there for long. We’re out here to cut it down so a rich person can make furniture.”
Deep breath in and out. The forest is thick with the scent of pine sap. If it weren’t so inconvenient it would smell nice. But picking up the felled logs is sticky business. Gotta get them all though, or there’ll be no fire.
I am always prefer to use the one word flights, All the time one word flight give us the good price and good treatment so we can travel in comfertable way.
Adel Noaman
I am always prefer to use the one word flight, All the time one word flights give us the good price and good treatment so we can travel in comfertable way.
Adel Noaman
The smell of trees was overwhelming. She walked in cautiously, setting her keys on the side table. “Hello?” She turned on the lights. “Oh my God.”
He hadn’t gotten one Christmas tree. He had gotten at least 10. Maybe even more.
Is it recreational lust or something more profound that keeps my heart bound to the one I resist yet wish to succumb to? If only I could tell the difference, but I’m too deep in it now to have proper perspective. The man of long hours knows little of how I pine as I won’t let myself cross the line to see if the grass is greener, if life tastes sweeter…
i was pining for her. I was waiting for right moment since last 40 years.
The scent of pine brings me back to childhood, wandering in a swath of bush that we called a forest. We scuffed our shoes among the needles and duff, playing at adventures. Later, we used those same retreats to pursue the sordid curiosities of adolescence, but the scent of pine today erases those missteps and brings back innocence and wonder.
That’s the scent that bring Christmas home
The tree
the wreath on the door
the centerpiece on the table
the fireplace as it heats up for the oak logs to follow
and it’s the scent of spring
first trips to the woods
to bring out the naturalist
in each of us.
The smell of pine trees makes me think of camping. It smells like the woods. It helps me breath deeper and better. Smells like fresh air. I love the smell of pine in the morning when I first wake up. Many things are made from pine wood.
They asked him to stop thinking about her, they ordered him. He told them that he couldn’t stop thinking about her- her eyes, her smile, the way they were together. He still pined after her.
The resin covered patches of his hands. He couldn’t wash it off, it being 19th century western America without modern soap. How did he get here?
The pines spoke to him. It was the winds he thought, no different from the breath through a flute. the rustling and swishing of needles upon needles as the gusts took hold, one breeze dancing through thousands. Maybe in that moment, when the trees spoke they’d speak of clarity, maybe they’d speak of hope.
It was amazing really, how evocative the words on a page could be. She could smell the pine clearly, the pine that daring Riley Parkins had traipsed through on an adventure. Then a bit of snow landed on her arm. It was mid-july.
The snow was thick and soft, the trees gently brushing against her. She inhaled. Pine and snow, a scent that was at the same time so familiar and so foreign. She heard a noise behind her; not the quick snap of a twig but the cracking of a larger branch.
you pine for the seasons just like
you pine for the wind, the way it sinks
into your skin heavy like musk. pine is like elm
soft and quiet, hazy. close your eyes and encircle
the trunk of the tree, like a memory, like a daydream
that never ends. a slick november, the fingertip of the rings.
summer evening chillout beautiful smell
Car freshener. Cheap perfume. The Dharma Bums. A staggering and isolated place. Ouch.
Last week I would have run straight from school to the next street where a street vendor had a stall where he roasted and sold pine nuts.
That was last week though.
Yesterday, I ran and ran hoping to get another cup from the elderly man but instead I found his body.
Lying on the floor – still warm – with his beloved pine nuts scattered around his body while some were still roasting away on the hot pan.
The pine trees grow tall here in Canada the grow so tall sometimes you cant even see the top.But if you just sit in a pine tree forest on a spring day you’ll hear the birds singing and see the squirrels jumping. But if you listen very carefully you’ll here them talk to you, yes the trees as the wind wisps thru there leave you here them call your name.
A week after the operation, she was rolled her out of the hospital and back into the world. Though she could no longer see, she could feel the warmth of her husband’s sweaty palms gripping her squeaky wheelchair. She could feel the soft wind caressing her eyelids, flowing into one ear and leaking out the other. And she could smell the fragrance of pine leaves in this wind, the fragrance accompanied by a soft crushing underneath her temporary feet.
The smell dances about the air, spinning and twirling in content. Its smell brings even the Earth to life. So beautiful, so natural.
I wonder what its like to take it everywhere I go, on my hair, on my clothes, like I wear it upon my shoulder so delicately. And hopefully you’ll see the world in the colors of my eyes the way I mistake your smile for stars in the sky.
It’s kind of spiky, why do people like the smell? I guess it’s kind of nice, but what’s the big deal? Does it remind people of christmas? Or forests? Living in the woods? Camping? What does it remind them of?
Pine scent, pine tree, Pine Sol. So much Pine Sol. I didn’t see the connection between the three, at all. But still she kept spraying it, trying to make the dead tree come to life, to have some semblance of the fragrance it once kept.
I have pined for excellence throughout my life. I trie hard but may be i dindt posess the raw talent. I wish i was a bit more talented to be able to see my ambitions thorugh to the end. i do thank god for making me what i am today.
Pine is a smell that I relate to Christmas. It always brings a sense of comfort when I walk into someone’s home and the aroma hits me like a warm kiss.
“In the pines, in the pines, where the sun don’t ever shine…” The song crooned out of a small turn dial tv sitting in the corner of the filthy, blood stained apartment. Jeremiah looked at the TV and saw a blond singer with an acoustic guitar sitting on a stool. He looked like he needed a shower. Jeremiah didn’t know who the singer was was, but he didn’t like him. He sneered at the TV before he shot two 9mm rounds into it.
There was a baby pine tree that I almost passed up on at the nursery. We underestimate the small. We forget that we couldn’t have big without small’s contrast.
This word reminds me of Main. Ahh walking through the woods is one of my favorite things to do there. There is a little cottage where we stay right in the middle of a beautiful field.
Chess has been in love with Hatter for centuries.He knows it, the Knave knows it, hell, even Umber knows it. It seems everyone but Hatter himself knows- and laughs- at the Jack of Spades.
I inhaled it deeply and felt as it escaped past my small hairs and entered my nasal cavity. It was all I smelt when I saw her like christmas morning except there were no presents underneath the tree just disappointment and a lack of trust.
pineapple pine trees.. something tasty something solid .. pine cant be mine .. bad rhyming but at this time nothing solid and tasty is mine :(
Pine Tree was shaking in the winds. It was tall and strong. It had endured many storms.
I pine for your love. I pine for your attention and all your affection. I pine to be yours and no one else’s. I pine for you to let me love you and know you in ways no one else does. I pine to be with you forever, until the end. I pine for you.
I used to chew pine needles on the golf course with my grandpa. It didn’t occur to me until I was an adult that maybe he liked gin. I still think of him every time I smell a pine tree or have a gin and tonic. I miss you Bumpy…
“I can smell pine,” I told her as she held the unlit candle up to my face. “I can smell sugar and vanilla and caramel held to a flame. I can smell the tundra and the waterfalls and the surging river below.”
“Okay, babe,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I get it. You’re not into it.”
I blinked. “No, for real, though,” I replied. “I can smell all of that. Like, the odor changes every time you breathe in.”
for you
but not for you
not the being and the thoughts that are you
but the way you made me feel
when I saw myself in your eyes
a guise to be sure but a reflection
that made me feel whole and sure
that I was pure enough for someone else
besides myself
I am always me
Alone for eternity
but with you I am whole
with you I am alive
Pine is fresh, pine is nice. Pine is the smell of forests green and brown and multicoloured, refreshing winds and cool places. Pine is where Heidi lived; it is where many children play.
pine. the tree was tall, and smelled like home. she was there with me when we moved into the house, where it took up the yard and yearned for the sky’s warm embrace. i can wrap my arms around it and pretend she’s there.
The slender spindle rose toward the sky like his longing in the night. “This tree gets it,” he thought. “He knows what it is for his love to be unreachable.”
The lone pine tree stood at the top of the hill. All around it, there was just rock, scrubby vegetation and dust.
“There used to be a forest here,” Mara’s father told her.
“What happened?” He never talked about the past so she tried not to sound too eager.
He gave a short cough, like a laugh, then his face grew stern again. “What didn’t happen? Pollution, climate change, short-sighted politicians.” He fell silent and Mara knew that the moment for sharing had passed.
“Why do you that tree is still there?” She asked.
He stood up and brushed off his pants, then hefted his pack. “Won’t be there for long. We’re out here to cut it down so a rich person can make furniture.”
Deep breath in and out. The forest is thick with the scent of pine sap. If it weren’t so inconvenient it would smell nice. But picking up the felled logs is sticky business. Gotta get them all though, or there’ll be no fire.
I am always prefer to use the one word flights, All the time one word flight give us the good price and good treatment so we can travel in comfertable way.
I am always prefer to use the one word flight, All the time one word flights give us the good price and good treatment so we can travel in comfertable way.
The smell of trees was overwhelming. She walked in cautiously, setting her keys on the side table. “Hello?” She turned on the lights. “Oh my God.”
He hadn’t gotten one Christmas tree. He had gotten at least 10. Maybe even more.
Is it recreational lust or something more profound that keeps my heart bound to the one I resist yet wish to succumb to? If only I could tell the difference, but I’m too deep in it now to have proper perspective. The man of long hours knows little of how I pine as I won’t let myself cross the line to see if the grass is greener, if life tastes sweeter…