I’d taken a break from morning exercise because of back
pain, but started up again at the weekend. And somehow, in the intervening week
or so, spring has just washed over the Valley they call Silicon.
I say this not because there are flowers all over the
place—narcissi have been poking up for a while, and blossoming fruit trees have
been bursting with color for more than a month.
After all, there’s plenty of landscaped color year-round hereabouts—the
best high-tech money can buy. And you can't tell just from temperatures, either; we barely droop below the 60s all year round.
No, over the weekend I was practically overcome by the
scents of spring, the sweet, sometimes spicy aromas that seem to hang in the
pre-dawn air. You walk into intense pockets of them, and in the dark they’re
all a surprise—you have no visual clues to where they’re originating. It’s a mostly-silent
magical mystery tour all to yourself.
As with all things seasonal, I don’t expect it to last for
long. But while it does, I’ll breathe deep and enjoy it.
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