Rainbows

 

For most of my early years, rainbows were in books, drawings or photos. In the Little Maida series, one of the characters, I think her name was Sylvia, tried to capture rainbows in her paintings that would become gifts.

I wished for real rainbows. I had to be satisfied with my grandmother's prism, which I still have.

When I moved to Geneva, there was a plethora of rainbows visible from my balcony. There were nights that they were so spectacular, that I knocked on neighbors' doors with a rainbow alert. My balcony had the best view.

On a bus ride from Geneva to Ferney-Voltaire in France, I was on the bus to go to dinner with a friend who lived there. France was only four bus stops from my house.

The bus was filled with UN and office workers, tired from the day. They sat, not talking. 

Someone cried, "Look!" Out the window, on the left side of the bus, was a double rainbow. Everyone looked moving to the left side if necessary to see.

The atmosphere on the bus went from tired and isolating to energized and sharing.

When my husband and I spent several weeks in Ireland near Westport, there were daily rain showers almost always followed by a rainbow. We began to look forward to their daily appearance.

However yesterday, a rainbow came to call at tea time.

I looked up from my writing, ready to prepare the tea and I saw it. A rainbow brought its friend, another rainbow and settled near the dog's dish under the television.

So often when I try and photograph a rainbow, the colors are washed out. I was sure it would disappear before I could get my phone to take its picture, but it seemed to grow stronger.

The colors on the dog dish, did not, however, encourage my persnickety dog's appetite. A blue sip of water and a red Frolic didn't impress him. 

The colors did last and last.

A rainbow came to call. I wish I could have kept it, but it will forever be a treasured memory.