So, yesterday there was this beautiful rainbow just over Herzl street, right behind the big Arcaffe on the corner. And such a rainbow it was, those shimmering, shining colors against the storm.
The storm had raged inside our house all day, too. Some days are like that when you’re with your kids. Milk spills, cookies burn, and you trip over your shoelaces head first into an argument.
But oh, this rainbow. This rainbow waving across the sky, redeemed us.
“Pics or it didn’t happen,” right?
I reached for my iPhone, and scrolled my finger over the screen to open the camera app, dodging the raindrops as they fell, covered by an umbrella with the kids.
Our feet were muddy, our hair was wet and clinging to our faces, and after a day that stretched too long into the sullen hours of late afternoon, wow, we needed the air and the wind and above all, this rainbow.
But as I held my phone up to capture it — to capture that perfect symmetry of color and light in that perfect moment that made up for the bickering behind closed doors — the rainbow faded into grey and disappeared, because of course.
(Even rainbows can be jerks.)
“Where’d it go!?!” my daughter asked.
“Come back, sweet little rainbow!!!” my son cried.
And then the rain fell in a smatter of wet daggers against our umbrella, while from just over buildings where that rainbow had been, the light broke through and our faces turned gold.
“Look mama! Look!” my daughter said pointing at the light as the rain came in sideways.
And it hit me then as the sun flashed and the rain fell and the sky swirled all around us in shades of grey. We may be stuck in the storm, but the rainbow didn’t disappear. We’re standing in the middle of it.