Is there anyone who doesn’t feel a certain sense of delight – however small – whenever a rainbow is detected? It’s a perfect concentration of light that produces a fleeting burst of colour – beautiful, ethereal, almost magical.
For reasons I can’t explain, a rainbow always manages to lift my spirits.
I have a kitchen window that faces south and in this window are hanging 2 large crystals – both of them gifts from many years ago. During the fall and winter when the sun sits low on the horizon, my kitchen will erupt in rainbows on a bright sunny day.
How can I not feel hopeful and optimistic about a day that starts with a fat burst of colour sitting on the blank page of the to-do list I’m about to prepare? That same rainbow will wrap itself around my hand as I write across the page – a caress that I can see, but not feel.
They pop up in seemingly random places and will bounce around the room in a mad tango if the crystals are disturbed on the strings from which they hang.
They can be here one minute and then gone the next.
They will even stretch through the doorway to the front of house, found in the most unlikely of places … although I’ve discovered it’s virtually impossible to photograph a rainbow that has tattooed itself on Theo’s butt as he struts out of the room with his tail held high.
You may dismiss rainbows as fluffy stuff like butterflies and unicorns, but to me they are powerful symbols of hope, promise, and potential. Maybe it’s just a wish for that elusive pot of gold, but even in mighty Norse mythology, it’s a rainbow that bridges the world between gods and humans.
For the next several months, I’ll be looking forward to those mornings when rainbows light up my world and I’ll be certain to smile … for rainbows are one of those things I really like.