There's something awe-inspiring of big halls full of identical racks fitted with identical machines, with thick, even bundles of colourful network cables strain

There's something awe-inspiring of big halls full of identical racks fitted with identical machines, with thick, even bundles of colourful network cables straining against their strips. Each unit -- of row, rack, server -- anonymously, but with great power, quietly (underneath the roar of the fans) grinding away on some unknown, ephemeral subpart of a workload. From a distance, clam and regular, serene, even; but as you get closer, plenty of blinking lights, on harddrives and NICs, feverishly and with no apparent pattern giving a small hint of the fierce activity taking place inside the cool metal box.