One evening early in November, K texted me that she and C were enjoying a beautiful sunset in their town, about 60 miles away. That inspired me to step outside to see what our sky looked like. We’d just had a rain shower, and the air was fresh and clear.
Sure enough, the air was beginning to take on that golden glow that comes with sunset. Behind the hemlocks, the maples and oaks were bright—
while above the house, the larch and oak were burnished bronze and gold against the rain-washed sky—
The colors in the western sky began to deepen from white-gold to rose and lavender, with a sudden depth of color that was quite unusual.
Hardly believing my eyes, I turned from west to east—
And oh! There was a rainbow—not just one, but two, oh, three arches, painted in translucent watercolor, broad vivid strokes upon the shimmering pastel sky. The French phrase Arc en ciel is even more evocative than our “rain-bow” — As ephemeral as light, as tangible as water, ever-changing in our gaze even as we try to fix it in our memory.
The rainbow glowed ever-brighter with an intensity of color that was almost startling.
As the minutes passed, the sky became suffused with color that emanated from someplace other than the rain-bow.
I turned from east to west—
As vivid as they are, these photos – all untouched and unenhanced – cannot begin to depict the intensity of the light I experienced in just a few short minutes. It was one of the most remarkable experiences of my life.
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