I'll describe this nesosilicate as efficiently as possible: MSO paints it orange.

I'm bark, but I'm not a dog's sound. I sweeten, but grow on a tree. My scent can unlock Christmas memories. What am I?

I’m not a plant, in shadow I grow, no seeds I cast, no roots I show. I thrive where light is kept away, a hidden life in soft decay.

As our daily friend sinks away, resting to come another day, Up in the sky, vibrant hue hovers, setting the stage and cue for lovers.

Through the field, I cut a swath, Follow me, I’m called a