Last night, the Golden Gate Bridge got the kind of lighting treatment that no city contractor could deliver — crepuscular rays, colloquially known as "God rays," streamed through the clouds and turned the bridge into something that looked ripped from a Renaissance painting. If you missed it, you missed one of those moments that reminds you why people put up with $3,500 rents and streets that smell like a chemistry experiment gone wrong.

For the uninitiated, crepuscular rays are those dramatic beams of sunlight that fan out from behind clouds, made visible by particles in the atmosphere. They're especially stunning over the Bay, where fog, marine layers, and the bridge's iconic towers create a natural stage. No permits required.

It's easy to get cynical covering this city. Between the fiscal black holes masquerading as government programs and the bureaucratic quicksand that swallows every good idea, the news cycle can feel relentless. But moments like last night are a useful reset. The Golden Gate Bridge — completed in 1937 under budget and ahead of schedule, a feat so incomprehensible by modern standards it practically qualifies as science fiction — still stands as a monument to what happens when competent people are allowed to build things.

And nature, bless her, doesn't need an environmental impact review to put on a light show.

If you're looking to catch the next one, head to the Marin Headlands for an unobstructed view. As one Bay Area local put it, driving up to the top of Mt. Tamalpais offers "the best 360 views in the Bay Area — totally worth it." Hard to argue with that.

No agenda here. Just a reminder that the best things about San Francisco are the things no politician can take credit for — and no amount of mismanagement can ruin.