In the heat of summer, this mirage of a city boils up from a sprawling concrete grid, spilling out from a small cluster of modest high-rises to an endless suburb.

Look east. Through the haze 50 miles away are the Sierra Nevada mountains—half that distance on a crisp spring day.

Look west. The neighborhoods eventually thin out and beyond are miles of monoculture crops and then the golden slopes of the Diablo Mountain Range and at last the Pacific Ocean.

Stand atop the old Pacific Southwest Building in the heart of downtown. Close your eyes and imagine the dry, hot air on your face is a cool ocean breeze.

Now open.

All these names for things, yet there is nothing but what the eye can see.