“It’s four o’clock,” I said, “the train will be here soon.” Carol started to get out of the car, and then said, “Oh look!” and pointed at the rainbow. It was low in the sky, and quite vivid.
She ran off to catch her train. I started driving back to the office, and managed to miss my turn because I was looking at the rainbow, which had faded and had lost the top of its arch.
I drove around in one of those suburban tracts where you can never go in the direction you think you want to go. I was a little bit embarrassed that I had gotten lost because I was looking at a rainbow; rainbows are so wonderful that they’re trite; little kids like rainbows; I’m sure the other adults who driving around didn’t bother looking at the rainbow, although they might have had a little kid in a car seat who pointed at it.
Eventually I got back on the right road again. I came back to the office, and didn’t think about the rainbow until just now.
I don’t think rainbows are trite; what we do with them as human beings may be (bad song lyrics, goofy leprechaun stories, etc.). Rainbows are stunningly gorgeous and always different. We get big gorgeous fat ones out here in the Midwest, set against deep black ominous clouds, rainbows you can see for miles and miles. I adore them.
So. There you are. Another adult gaping at rainbows.