Pleasure

I heard a car with a stone in its tire today. As it rolled along, I counted some number of clicks per second. I found some pleasure that I could figure out how fast the car was traveling.

That, and lilac perfume rained down as I calculated.

I bet that's how it works for the career mathematician. Their cognitive circuitry is hardwired in parallel: the idea of number with the idea of some elusive, fragrant pleasure. There must be a solid pleasure from thinking about math, just like nosing a tender spring flower. I'm just guessing. I don't have that pleasure center activated most times, unfortunately.