Pot of Gold

These days, I drive to Wausau once a week for work.  Its a long drive, but I have plenty of things to make it bearable:  coffee and NPR in the morning, audio books and sunglasses on the way home.   This week, I had no need for the latter.  It was pouring rain so hard that I couldn’t see the lines on the road.  It was a  post-tornado storm rolling through.  When they are not terrifying, they are beautiful.

When the rain abated, my car was filled with a golden light.  To my left was a full rainbow, seeminly close enough to touch.   I could see where its two ends touched down:  one on a farmer’s field and the other ahead of me, in a grove of tall northern wisconsin pines.  I was so mesmerized by it that it was probably unsafe to drive, so I pulled over to gawk at it.  Eventually,  clouds from the south rolled in, erasing it and returning the sky to a gray blackboard.   It was  at that moment, it occurred to me to take a picture.

I then get back on the highway and arrive safely at home. For that, I am grateful.

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