And of course I mean that literally.
It’s funny how the entire universe can stop every five seconds to take selfies — in case everyone simultaneously needed reminding of what they looked like — but you stop in a parking lot, groceries in one hand, to quickly shoot a rainbow and you get odd looks from people. A rainbow, so what?
And they’re so wrong. Rainbows are always an unexpected delight, the reason for putting up with the rainstorm. To me it’s like spotting a shooting star — it may be a natural, perfectly normal, routine sort of thing, but it’s still amazing. And I always try for a rainbow picture, unless I’m driving, in which case it’s not worth the potential five-car pileup. I like to remember where and when the rainbows were, because they make me happy.
To me, this just goes along with being a writer. How can I be any good at it if I’m not paying attention to the world around me – the bird songs, the smell of spring rain in the air? Everything is a potential detail to remember. It’s like a constant game of “how would I describe that?” And if I want to keep improving my skills, that’s a game I need to play.
Anyway, beautiful things ought to be appreciated while they’re around. Like this gauzy rainbow, which so perfectly brightened up the sky after a daylong rain-a-thon … and then disappeared.