"Every year around this time, the lush green hills of this corner in northeastern Madagascar fill with the unmistakable, pungent smell," writes photographer Rijasolo.

"You can’t get away from it, it seeps into your clothes, your hair and for the uninitiated like me, it can make you dizzy at times. It wafts through the streets of Sambava, especially those around the warehouses where the origin of the aroma is stored, before its journey to all corners of the globe. It’s vanilla harvesting season."