A few weeks ago, as I was driving to my office in Warren Hall, I saw one on the corner in front of Bel Air Camera. An angel. I really did. I saw an angel!

This sighting coming only one day after a weeklong silent meditation retreat made me marvel at the power of the experience I had just had. Was I in an elevated state after all that meditating? And then I remembered.

I had read that statues of angels, as part of a public art project, were being disbursed around Los Angeles. Eventually, the angels would be sold or auctioned off to benefit charity.

Since I initially passed the Bel Air angel so quickly, I wanted to go back for a second look. But alas, the next time I went by that corner, the angel was gone.

Days later, I thought I saw an angel in front of the Saban Building on Wilshire near Gayley. From having observed firsthand that angels don't always stay put, I actually parked my car and walked over to investigate. Sure enough, it was really there. It was life-size with the same shape and configuration of the Bel Air angel, but painted in such a way that it had its own unique look and feel.

Standing nose to nose with this angel, I was about to reach out and touch it (much like Elliot did with E.T.) when a man walked past me. With kindness in his eyes and gentleness in his voice, he turned and said: "You look like you're part of the statue." What could I do but smile?

The Saban angel's (sponsored by Marymount High School) substance, grace and beauty were compelling. Its stance was open, and its arms and wings were outstretched to embrace those willing to have such an encounter. The images painted on its wings depicted L.A.'s diverse population by age, gender and ethnicity, all united in the search for knowledge and meaning. An inspiring and fitting theme for this day and age, and certainly for UCLA.

This morning as I was driving past Wilshire, I glanced quickly over my shoulder to see if the angel was still there. I thought I saw it, but wasn't sure. Instead of circling around, I decided it would be more fun and much more meaningful to assume that it was and to imagine that all the people walking and driving by were angels, too. Each of us in our own unique fashion are the Angels of Westwood.

The Bel Air angel was up for only a week before vandals broke its arm. The angel has since been repaired to be auctioned off. Author Carol Felixson directs outreach programs for the UCLA Stunt Ranch Santa Monica Mountains Reserve.