The view out our front window is ever changing. Every hour of every day the scene is different. From the gold bright sunlight of morning to fog banks drifting in and out of the distant peaks. Bright blue skies and billowing white clouds changing to pale pink washed evenings. Mountain tops covered by the pregnant bellies of dark clouds or glowing silver in the moonlight. Shrouded in rainy mist or touched by long beams of sunlight peeking though clouds. My parents called those….”The fingers of God”.