Leaves brushed his face, and the resin smell of sap smoky air.

And she snapped a little twig off the pine branch she flew with, and sniffed the sharp resin smell with greedy pleasure, before flying slowly down to join the sleepers on the grass.

The resin smell of crushed grass spelled over them.

He propped it against a pine tree that gave off the resin smell of the hot day and he dropped down to the rocks, stripped and put his espadrilles on his shorts, shirt and cap and he dove from the rocks into the deep clear cold sea.

The heavy yet astringent, austere resin smell of the juniper and pines, floating seaward like an invisible fog, permeated everything, its sharpness emphasized for Ramage because for years he had been accustomed to the ever-present, sickly odours of sweat, reeking bilges, tarred rope, damp wood and damp clothing.

Leaves brushed his face, and the resin smell of sap was heightened by the hot, smoky air.

As the sun set, the air became abruptly frosty and the hot resin smell of the trees changed suddenly to a damp rot smell of mold from the ground.