They should bottle this.

Whenever I'm away from San Diego and return, the thing that strikes me is how good it smells here.
Alburquerque smelled of desert sand. Which DOES have a smell, and it's not wholly unpleasant. But even when it snows, it smells of sand.
Minnesota was a lovely place, one of the prettier places I've been. But to the unacustomed nose, it smells exactly as you would expect a place with thousands of lakes would. Boggy.
San Diego smells of ocean breezes and salt and sand and the almost too-sweet oleanders that bloom almost all year round.
Of sage and mustard in the hot sun, wafting down from the rolling hills.
Of shady pecan trees and low-lying waxy avocado trees.
Of orange trees that blossom two or three times a year because of the long growing season.
Of freshcut grass that people have their gardener cut often, because, hey, since they are paying a fortune to water it, might as well show it off.
Of cactus and warm earth and hot adobe brick.
Of carne asada and orange chicken and krispy kreme donuts.
Of surfboard wax and suntan lotion.
Of hot asphalt that burns your feet in the summer if you walk on it barefoot.
Of euclyptus trees and aloe vera.
Of night-blooming jasmine and chlorine from pool water.
Of fresh soft bagels toasting and lemons ripening on the windowsill.
Of horses and hay bales and well-oiled leather.
To me, it smells of home.

Take a deep breath.