Signs?

Steve and I left the house at the same time this morning, and walked together the first part of the way to our respective bus stops. When we walked outside, we each took a double-take. The morning light was eerily matte and sepia-toned, so that we seemed to have stepped from our little SoBo house into a Sergio Leone western.

Just after we went our separate ways, a spectacular rainbow nearly smacked me in the face. It was wide and clear and bright, its ROYGBIV array impossibly vivid. As I stared at this amazing rainbow, I realized I could see its entire span. There it stood, a perfect arc of brilliant color stretching over Broadway, with one pot of gold hidden on the NCAR Mesa and the other in Martin Park. Continuing on my way, I noticed a second, more muted and pastel spectrum shining in the sky alongside the brighter bow.

The wind whipped my curls into a frenzy, my sunglasses shielded my eyes against the glaring January sunshine, and a light but steady rain dappled my head and shoulders. I couldn’t help grinning at Mother Nature’s early-morning antics, which felt like a happy omen gracing the new year.

(At least until I got to the office, and spilled my entire cup of coffee on the floor.)