The earth smelled of raw depths, of the tomb, of flowers.

The earth smelled of decayed leaves and rotting timber.

Autumn had already come, and the earth smelled of vine leaves and overripe grapes.

Alt has never been to Georgia herself, but she had heard good things: "My girlfriend says the earth smells sweet."

The dark earth surrounding us smelled like what it was, moist dirt where worms and animals lived their daily lives.

There had been February and March rain, and the earth smelled ready to grow anything where a seed was put down.

It was a bright, sunny day and the earth smelled sweet.

The breeze was fresh and warm, and the earth smelled of growth and renewal.

The earth smelled musty and close, but we did not somehow seem to mind, for our attention was concentrated on the Professor.

The cold would return, to be followed by the torrential rains of Marche, but today the earth smelled open and fresh as spring.