I've been told there are places where the ocean smells wild and briny.
The air was crisp and we could smell wild herbs wafting in the wind from the mountains.
Zorba the Greek is rich in the sights, sounds and smells – wild sage, mint and thyme, the orange-blossom scent worn by Madame Hortense, the citrus and almond trees – of life on Crete: the rabbits eaten, the sea that both men plunge into, the wine drunk.
Now every time I smell wild land smoke, it's so nostalgic to me.
Yosemite is described as smelling like "wild strawberries fused with soothing mists of mountain rain".
After our beer at the Stags', we walked through a deep valley, called, appropriately, Ravensdale, that was full of shadow and sharp-smelling wild garlic and had a tiny hamlet at the bottom that seemed almost to be abandoned.
Next morning, up on the plain over the ravine, the air smells of wild thyme and nepitella, a kind of wild mint.
"It drives them crazy," said Mrs. Levine, as she stopped to smell some wild leeks.
They smelled of wild mushrooms, and tasted, spooned hot into my hand, like sunflower seeds.
On hot days when the sirocco wind blows, the land can smell of wild rosemary and thyme.
As you drive around Dorset in April and May, you can smell the wild garlic as it blooms; this month it's been replaced by pungent elderflowers.
