It's another relentlessly gray day and we here in Malibu say no thanks. No, we won't admit that the sky is dragging on the pavement, that the windshield is wet with fog, or that the birds are so depressed they're in their nests streaming Hulu.

Instead, here's a sunny morning on one of the pathways in the hills where, if you walk far enough, you come to the knoll from which you can hear a neurotic rooster crowing from dawn to dusk, or the bells from Mel Gibson's church, or, sometimes (God does have a sense of humor) both at the same time.