Rainbows And Other Perfect Moments

We haven’t had much rain here in Southern California thanks to our relentless four-year long drought.  And what little we have received likely has not made the slightest change in our state's water table.  But, thankfully, we did have some earlier this week and there's a possibility of another storm this weekend.  Apart from the fact that we need this rain or SoCal will go back to being the desert it was (which might be what we deserve and nature intends) before William Mulholland piped/bullied it from the Owens Valley, one of the things I have missed is the sight of the graceful rainbows that would arc their lovely colors across our sky after a storm.  With the San Gabriel Mountain Range as their backdrop, they were both breathtaking and majestic, a radiant tiara of red, orange, yellow, green, indigo and violet.  (Yes, I had to look up all the rainbow colors and their order - it's been that long!)

One of the things I love about my house is that it is wonderfully situated for viewing any storms that do rumble down from the north, darkening our mountains with drenching showers and crackling blasts of lightning.  From my living room windows, and especially from my upstairs office window, I have witnessed clouds with cauliflower heads white as snow and underbellies the color of tarnished copper sweep across the aerial landscape.  And it was during just such a storm a few years ago that I chanced to look out my window to see a brilliant rainbow delicately arching its way across the sky.

Rainbows are physical manifestations of natural laws, that we know.  But I actually had to look up the definition of a rainbow as I'm afraid my physical science education took place many storms ago.  So in case you also need a refresher, a rainbow's colors are the result of the refraction and dispersion of the sun's light by rain or other water droplets in the atmosphere.  But rainbows are so much more than that.  Rainbows also fall into the category of such ethereal phenomena as fairy dust, angels and good luck charms.  For rainbows do more than just refract the sun’s rays into beautiful colors; they weave together stories and legends that cross boundaries and span centuries.  From Noah’s time to today, they symbolize our hope after the devastating storm and our dream for a better life.  We chase them, write poetry and prose about them and seek their golden riches where they bend to kiss the earth.  By their very nature they are fleeting and ephemeral and perhaps it is for this reason that we feel blessed when we see them grace our skies.

Some people spend their lives chasing rainbows, meaning they are chasing unattainable dreams for rainbows never seem to touch the earth anywhere close enough to reach them.  To stand at the end of a rainbow and bask in its colors might be akin to what Maslow called a peak experience, a single moment when all the elements of one’s life seem to come together in glorious perfection.

In my life, I have been blessed with several such moments.  At the top of the list has to be the birth of my daughters.  Nothing before or since can match the intensity of feelings, both emotional and physical, that culminated in that one precise moment when they each drew their first breaths.  Well, at least until that moment when I stood by my daughter Heather and watched my granddaughter Cadence breathe in hers.  Such an exquisite moment, such a privilege to witness:  it was a perfect moment.

Another was the helicopter ride with my husband to view Cristo’s Umbrellas along the Santa Ynez Mountains.  To swoop over those yellow umbrellas in a helicopter—well, my heart nearly exploded with the excitement.  It, too, was a perfect moment.  As was standing at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon for the first time.  Or heeding Zion’s call to walk in the shadow of its towering walls.  Both moments, so rooted in the earth, yet as ethereal and fleeting as a rainbow at the end of a storm.

Speaking of rainbows, the most amazing thing about the rainbow that I saw through my window was that it actually touched the earth right on the hill across from my neighborhood

.  I knew I had been granted a once in a lifetime opportunity so I jumped into my car and drove to the corner, parked and raced up the hill.  Nervously, I stepped into the rainbow.  The colors that I could see from my window, the red, yellow, green and violet bands, all seemed to meld into one sunny golden hue and I realized I had indeed found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.  It was a perfect moment.

Just A Little Valentine Story

       Clarence looked in the mirror and straightened his bow tie.  This was ridiculous; nobody wore bow ties anymore.  Then again, nobody was named Clarence anymore either.  That’s what came with getting old.  The clothes you’d always liked to wear, the name you’d always been comfortable in, were no longer in fashion; in fact, had been out of fashion seven presidents ago.  Seven presidents ago?  Clarence frowned and shook his head.  I’m too old for this, he thought, too old.

He walked to the bedroom window and peered through the curtains, the same eyelet lace curtains Helen had sewed the year before she died.  They were faded and paper thin now but he couldn’t  bring himself to replace them.  His daughter called him sentimental, saw no point in saving worn out curtains, or for that matter, her mother’s old hair pins adorned with rhinestones and fake pearls.  Well, perhaps someday he would replace Helen’s curtains, but he would never throw out her hair pins.  He was sentimental; that also came with old age and he wasn’t going to apologize for it.

But how could he explain what he was about to do now, the reason for the bow tie around his neck and the butterflies in his stomach.  He looked out the window again at the house across the street.

When Helen died, Dottie Johnson and her husband had come right over.  As the weeks went by, Dottie would often send Herb over with a casserole; more times than not, Herb stayed and played dominoes with Clarence or they’d all get together and listen to music.  Dottie was the one who went through Helen’s clothes for Clarence, instinctively knowing which items were best donated to Good Will.

Two years ago when Herb died, Clarence immediately took over some of the tasks Herb had done, like taking the trash to the curb each week and cutting the lawn.  Clarence liked doing these things for Dottie partly because she never asked him to, but mostly because she always rewarded him with her smile and some special dessert that just happened to be coming out of the oven that very moment.

Clarence crossed the room and looked at the red heart-shaped box of chocolates on the table.  Across the top of the box in fancy gold script were the words “Be My Valentine.”  He couldn’t believe how nervous he was.  After all, it was just a box of chocolates, just an old fashioned show of friendship and affection.  It didn’t really  mean anything.  But his heart was pounding and he felt wonderful.  And he knew Dottie would love them.  Then with a smile Clarence thought how both their names had been out of fashion for at least seven presidents.