There are trees on the mountain. They seem to know where they are going, although nobody asked them. Some are close together and some are not. If you look long enough, the spaces between them begin to look like shapes. Then the shapes begin to move a little. At the top there is a small tower with a large antenna on it. It is completely ordinary. It is also, for some reason, the most important thing you have seen all day.
You can climb the mountain, or stay at the bottom. There are houses down there, people talking, cars coming and going, somebody having a party. Nothing unusual. But the view changes when you move. A tree becomes a line. A line becomes a number. A number becomes a pattern. The pattern becomes something you can't quite name. Maybe mathematics is there. Maybe science. Maybe something smaller than a particle, or larger than the whole mountain. Maybe none of that. It doesn't seem necessary to decide.
So you keep looking. The trees are still trees. The antenna is still sending something into the distance. The mountain is still very steep. Somewhere between one thing and another, something seems to happen. You don't have to understand it. You don't even have to know what you're looking for. Just stay there for a minute. There may be something more here.