It started out as my husband’s idea. Just an early morning adventure to view Los Angeles from the top of Mt. Wilson. We received much more than we had hoped for.

As we arrived at the top of Mt. Wilson, it was beginning to get light. We followed a path leading from the parking lot out to an overlook. Cedars grew out of the mountain’s rock, wrapping their thick, gnarled roots around boulders. The cedar’s characteristic bent top was often oddly missing. Occasionally, a pine or cedar tree would rise a hundred feet, but most of the trees had been cut off about three-quarters of the way up leaving odd-looking, wide-topped trees. All over the mountainside, silvery, shiny, tree-like spikes stood all alone, their branches arching to the ground without life, without bark, without needles, puzzling skeletons of former grandeur.

The sandy path led us to an overlook. The radiance of the new dawn washed the horizon in shades of golden pink fading into blue sky. Below, multiple layers of faraway ridges disappeared into lessening tones of blue. The mountain’s height reduced our enormous city into insignificance, while we, who normally are just a speck in the sprawl of the city, were watching as gods. Two hawks soared effortlessly up the mountain, circling slowly, rising and falling, riding an invisible tide. The clouds gently rolled far below, changing form, withdrawing for a while only to crawl slowly back up the canyon. We stood, watching in silence, experiencing the ridge, allowing it to touch us deep within our souls.

The rustle of dry leaves below the ridge whispered a reminder that lizards and chipmunks live up here. The Manzanita branch just below us quivered. Suddenly there was a flutter of hurried motion and a law warble broke the silence as a morning dove flew away. Off in the distance, long white flashes of light crackled through the morning.

Gradually the cloud cover darkened. More electric crackling We counted the seconds before we heard the thunder crash. The storm slowly approached downtown. Lightning flashed across the sky, seeming to strike the tallest skyscrapers rising above the blanket of clouds. For over an hour, we watched. Crackling flashes…Crashing thunder.

It wasn’t until we felt the first drops of rain that we realized the storm was over us. I caught Kevin’s eye as we both understood for the first time why many of the trees were mere silvery trunks. They were charred-evidence of previous storms. Lightning and thunder crashed as one all around us.

We sprinted through the downpour, holding hands, winding back through the pines and cedars as the crashing thunder shook our path. Breathing hard, tingling with adrenaline, and laughing at our own stupidity, we made it back to the parking lot, the safety of the concession stand, and a warm cup of coffee.

We experienced a glimpse of God.

We sensed his presence and power.

We heard his voice in the wind.

All we’d hoped for was a view.