But this is Chico, too

This is my favorite almond blossom viewing site — the part of the Midway that crosses over the railroad tracks north of Durham.

From this vantage point, the orchards seem to go on forever in every direction. On clear days, you can see snow-capped mountains east and west of the valley. This is the picture postcard version of California.

I don’t advise stopping on the overpass to look at the orchards. The road is too narrow to safely pull over. Park your car on the side of a nearby road and walk along the overpass. Take lots of photos.

It’s become almost an annual tradition for me to write about why I’m so attached to blooming orchards. I grew up in the Santa Clara Valley. In 1958, when I was 6, prune orchards stretched all the way from the edge of our back yard to Campbell, the nearest town.

When I was 12, we moved out of the valley. By that time, there was nothing but houses stretching from the edge of our back yard to Campbell. The change from rural to suburban sprawl happened quickly. I mourn the loss of such a familiar landscape, which was so memorable in the spring.

The 1960s gave rise to at least two pop songs about people who cherished the small towns where they were raised. They had to move to big cities when they grew up, but they always longed to get back to their hometowns. But when they do return, they find everything has been paved over. “I looked for the meadows, there wasn’t a trace, six lanes of highway had taken their place,” Verdelle Smith sings in “Tar and Cement.”

“There’s a drag strip down by the riverside where my grandma’s cow used to graze. Now the grass don’t grow and the river don’t flow like it did in my childhood days,” Joe South sings in “Don’t It Make You Want to Go Home.”

People who grew up in Chico and then head off to the big city often feel nostalgic for the place they knew when it was a small town. It’s hard to say what they make of their hometown now that it has grown to the size of a small city. But at least the orchards are still here. I’d like to believe there’s some consolation in that.