My fragrant walks around town put me in proximity to neighbors kicking it on their own property, visible and aromatic but not crossing the threshold into what I would consider to be 'public usage'. They're in their garage on folding chairs with the door open, or in the yard, or on a back porch.

In addition to the distinctive smell of marijuana, there is often a recreational fire (wood smoke), and/or a BBQ (sizzling meat). It's publicly visible and apparent, but on private property.

I have never been that social, haven't accepted a pass in decades, don't imbibe myself (despite my internym), and don't recommend it to young folk, but I must be getting a microdose and a minor contact high from the gentle breeze that floats through town more often since legalization.

Second hand smoke is real, yo. The wind blows.