It is delightful here, smelling of sun-drenched pine and a hint of campfires.
Deidre started down the trail, holding out her hands to the pine trees.
There was a four foot wide Double Christian Door, Indian Shutters and "Pumpkin Pine" colored wide board flooring.
The road paralleled the river to their right and far below, which was most often hidden by the pine trees that blanketed the slope.
The verdant pines outside the fortress wall were beautiful, and she watched their long pine needles stir in an early morning breeze.
Deidre's eyes were caught by the gardens but drifted to the pine trees beyond the walls.
Stepping quickly onto the patio, she was able to make out the shapes of tall pine trees.
The forest was cold, the rustle of pine trees against one another faint.
She forced herself to notice how dark the sky was, the rich scent of earth in the air, the tickle of the pine needles that brushed her skin.
The hallway smelled medicinal and clean, like the antiseptic-laced air of a hospital mixed with pine cleaner.
The antiseptic pine-laced air from the hallway made her nose wrinkle.
The sky was a deeper blue, the green of the spruce and pine even darker than usual against the incredible white blanket that reflected the sun so brightly one was forced to squint or wear sunglasses.
There were a number of different routes, but the Deans chose the two-mile town site loop, a nearly flat path that first traversed a scented pine forest and then opened to a spectacular view of the surrounding mountains.
Shadows danced in tune with a slight breeze from the inch of open window and a sentinel pine tree beyond.
A gust of pine and jet fuel scented wind whipped by her.
"I know it," she said, recalling the rustic mansion nestled among pine trees next to a lake.
But old Adolph could rest in peace beneath the crabgrass in Pine Grove Cemetery, content in the knowledge that his handiwork had held up well while more than quadrupling in value.
The backdrop was the mountains; mountains with snow tucked in their crevices and, on the higher ones, sugar dust capping their tops in white, stark contrast to the deep green of the pine forests running up their sides to the tree line and the magnificent blue of the sky above.
The two pedaled together most of the afternoon, enjoying the pine-scented air, the cool breeze that hugged the base of the mountains and the yellow sunshine of a perfect spring day.
The trail wound around pine trees and over rock outcroppings.
Ten minutes of walking later, she crouched beneath the lowest branch of a massive pine tree and inched her way to the scene.
He smelled of pine trees and a bonfire, his earthy scent mixed with the softer scent of soap.
She crossed the road and walked into the pine forest, towards the small town.
She leaned against a pine tree, her gaze falling on a little green snake with stripes on it.
The walls were of stained pine, shellacked to a glow that reflected every ray of light that entered the large windows.
Even the bathroom had hardwood floors and stained pine walls.
Fleetingly, she registered the familiar scent of pine trees and grass and thought of how long it had been since she visited her family.
The scent of pine trees disappeared, replaced by the overpowering smell of cleaning solution.
She rearranged the fuel and added some pine needles and leaves.