Ah, Sacramento. I’m here for the holidays, with the leaves, and the mud, and the people standing knee high in it before they rub their feet into the floor mats of my car. After living here for the first 20 years of my life, I realized it had been self-dubbed the "City of Trees." I realized it on the way out of the city, en route at the time to my new home in San Diego (because I knew I needed to be settled in just in time to start legally drinking). I was headed south on the 99 and right there on the giant water tower where oncoming traffic was entering Sacramento, it said, in proud lettering, "City of Trees." If I had done more traveling in my early years I may have made it as far out as the edge of the city and collected this factoid while I was still around to enjoy it.

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