I almost miss it. It has been a hard and hectic week at work so I am still in my head, eyes down, not paying attention to the world. Cold, hard rain tips down, wetting me and my packages. I just want to get home. But something tells me to look up.
I notice the colour of the sky first, a rich denim blue befitting the rain it contains. Then there is the rainbow, a vibrant singing arc embracing the town. The colours are so bright that they seem to fizz out of their stripes. It has a companion, another complete arc, a little more faded than the first. And perhaps, there is just the suggestion of a third. I walk through the park, turning back regularly to see the rainbows span the houses, to watch them peek between bare branches.
A man stops to tell me he is admiring the rainbows’ beauty. Another stops his car at the edge of the park to take a picture of it, sharing his excitement at how vivid it is. So for a short time, it is a shared moment, bringing strangers together with its beauty. I get home minutes later and urge my wife to go outside and look, but it has already faded. The rain has stopped and the sky has returned to a dull grey, as if the moment never happened.
Harvesting Hecate 