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.