It was a calm and cloudless night when I stood atop Marin.  Not even the moonlight creeped through the thick trees as we gripped blindly toward the cliff ledge.  We sat in silence, watching the city sparkle below, distracted only by the silhouette of a soaring bat.

“There’s more,” my new friends grinned wittingly.  Without a word, I followed them around the right side of a rock wall, dangerously looking over my shoulder at the addictive view until I realized how much more there really was.

San Francisco grew in front of my eyes.  The notorious fog rested above the peninsula like whipped cream over a towering chocolate sundae.  Electricity pierced this cover, shooting swords of blazing white light into the black sky.  It was the most spectacular spotlight I’ve ever seen.