Seattle’s October came abruptly this year. It was pleasant 70°F and plummeted into mid 40s in one day. It even hailed in the city and snowed on the mountain. Satellites survive the winter with the faith that June will be lush and lovely and worth waiting for. Now one of them, I knew sun still come out, just less frequently as the old man winter approaches.
Sun did come that afternoon, right after a medium ferocity storm. I was on the phone while idly watching outside the window. Then it came.
A double rainbow so brilliant that I can touch it. The lower one was a full arc that reached from Capitol Hills, about a mile to the east where I live. The other end of the rainbow was at the foot of my building. I looked down from my balcony and can see the its landing. Pedestrians walked through it obliviously. They probably couldn’t see from where they stand.
Yes, I was standing at the end of the rainbow. I thought of the pot of gold and other legends, but mostly just let the happiness washing over me. It was so cool.
Soon, they moved. I have never seen rainbow moving in front of my eyes. The same arc presently swept north toward the lake, still brilliant and all the colors, but alive like a brush held by an invisible giant using the landscape for his canvas. Are gold coins spilling from the pot along the way? The end of the rainbow stopped right at the Center of Wooden Boats and held the position. A minute later, it faded away.