Thankfully, I had my camera close at hand to capture this evening's magic. Or, at least the first two. (The third one revealed itself shortly after I got home this evening, but the camera wasn't able to capture it hiding behind the trees in my backyard.)
The first one, though, was pretty amazing. Seemingly endless days of rain were pleasantly interrupted this morning by sunshine. In fact, I could swear we were promised an entire day of sunnyness by our omniscient weather wizards. However, as Frost long ago observed, nothing gold can stay. Not long after lunch, the clouds rolled back in, and we were back to our usual gray and gloomy.
I had my office blinds drawn, so it didn't really register that the sun had slyly sneaked its way back into the afternoon. Until, the sound of needles pelting my window suddenly drew my attention back to the world outside. "What the heck is THAT?!" I wondered aloud.
I pulled the blinds aside and was astounded by what I saw: bright sunlight mixed with pelting sleet-like rain. I don't suppose it really was sleet - not cold enough for that. Small hail then? Whatever it was, it was popping and prickling at the window even as it wrestled the sun for control of the sky. And then I looked toward the river and saw it: A well-defined, perfectly whole rainbow. Though shorter than the Arch, its stance was broader. Still, both ends were readily visible.
I yelped, snatched up my camera, and ran to the east end of the building, where I could access the balcony and take what promised to be some amazing shots of Mother Nature at her finest.
Speaking of which...it's about damn time. I've remarked to several people lately that I get the sense she's been seriously PMSing. Or, perhaps, even menopausal. Earthquakes, tsunamis, tornadoes, flooding. All in a BIG way. Nothing subtle about Gaia's latest exploits. She is woman, hear her ROAR.
With Good Friday's tornadic trouncing of the airport, we were stunned, but thankful - no loss of life, no serious injury. I've even grown slightly accustomed to the sirens anymore. With the flood waters rising, and threatening much of Southeastern Missouri -- including farmland belonging to my dear friend, law partner and mentor, Sam -- we've been holding our collective breath. Will they blow the levees, and sacrifice this part of Missouri for that part of Illinois?
Then, yesterday's monstrous beast of a tornado tore through Mississippi, Alabama and Georgia, and left us all stunned at the complete and utter devestation in its wake. I watched videos and clicked on photos much of last night and even today, shaking my head at the incomprehensibility of it. How insignificant we and all our worldly goods are in the face of something like that. There, but for the grace of God....
Which brings me back to the rainbows of today. I think of them as love notes from God. For they serve to remind us of His promise. And, in their untouchable, but undeniable beauty, to give us hope -- that even in our darkest days, the sun will still find its way through.
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