What’s lovelier than a rainbow? May 22, 2008
Posted by ourfriendben in gardening, wit and wisdom.Tags: bleeding hearts, rainbows, weather, weather lore
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Back in Ben Franklin’s day, the cause of the weather was referred to, tongue-in-cheek, as “the genius of the weather,” bringing to our friend Ben’s mind an image of Einstein, hair sticking out in all directions, furiously typing weather selections into his computer: “Hmm, I think I’ll send a little hail down on old Ben’s head this afternoon. No, wait, I’ve got it: lightning!”
All our friend Ben can say is that we’re afraid the genius of the weather has been deposed here at Hawk’s Haven and replaced by some guy with a 5-second attention span and an 80-channel remote control. All week, sun, clouds, and rain have chased each other across the sky so that, minute by minute, everything changes. And as we all know, when sun and rain share the sky, there can be rainbows.
Now, our friend Ben and Silence Dogood love rainbows. We have a crystal in one of the office windows that splashes rainbows across the walls, books, cats, dog, and doors every morning, to our unending delight. (I confess that we’re very easily amused, but it really is fun to hold up your hand and watch it take on rainbow colors.) And, of course, the thrill of seeing a rainbow in the sky—or, occasionally, a series of rainbows echoing each other into the distance—is never outgrown.
So maybe this will scandalize you, but our friend Ben saw something yesterday that struck me as even lovelier than a rainbow. I was looking out the window, wondering what on earth the weather was up to now. (And anyway, why is it so cold here all of a sudden? What happened to good old global warming?!) And I saw it: the play of light across raindrop-spattered bleeding-heart leaves. The tiny droplets shone like a spill of diamonds against the velvety blue-green surface of the foliage. In that moment, our friend Ben was convinced that never in life had I seen a more beautiful sight. It remains with me still, an imprint on the heart.
Maybe it’s just the gardener in me, but I would trade a rainbow (or a diamond) any day for another glimpse of that glittering, glorious perfection. How about you? What do you think is lovelier than a rainbow?
And, buddy, could you put down the &*%$#@!!! remote control?!!
“What happened to good old global warming?” –reminds me of my acquaintance (immortalized in one of my posts) who wants to start a group called “Montanans for Global Warming.”
As for your weather–wait til ours works its way west. We’ve had rain for the past –lets see, must be going on 48 hours now.
But yes, I’m ready for something warmer.
–kate
Oh, my, Montanans for Global Warming! I know plenty of folks who think like that in winter. But I have no heat tolerance, and until somebody invents the personal portable air conditioner—I am *still* waiting—I’ll take cold winters over hot, humid summers anytime. But they’re certainly not my favorite thing!!!
Wow. It sounds like a wonderful sight. Too bad most of such moments are hard for us non-photographers to cathc on a camera. Money sure isn’t everything, is it?
Indeed it isn’t! And you know, I don’t mind not having a photograph of that (though a fine photographer could have made a lovely thing of it), since without an actual photo, I can carry it with me everywhere…
Hmm, lovelier than a rainbow? I find that thunderheads, as they build higher and higher are something I could watch for hours. They are especially amazing if watched after dark, all filled with lightning. I once flew in a plane between such thunderheads after dark. Our pilot seemed to have things well under control and we didn’t hit one bump, but the light show out the windows was something I’ll never forget.
Wow–that would have been unforgettable!!!
I do have a moment like that too—
When I was a child, my parents too a trip to a lake house. It was an..On Golden Pond, like place. I had to be young at the time cause I remember being in a crib. I woke up and stood up in that crib. I looked around and everyone was gone. The crib was pushed up against the window so I looked out. Right at that moment, the sun was dancing one long beam across the lake from the tops of the trees straight to me right into my window. At that moment I stuck my thumb in my mouth and didn’t want one single person to disturb the sun connecting with me. I didn’t want the bedroom door to open and I didn’t want the sun to go away. I could feel its warmth on my cheek and when I touched the windowpane, it was warm there too. Some of the light played and danced off the dampness of my thumb where I’d had it in my mouth. When I put my thumb back in my mouth, I was sure I was tasting the kindness of that moment. It lasted a long time. The wind kicked up a bit now and then and the sun played with the water ripples and made me giggle and jump in the bed.
After what seemed like a very long time, the door creaked open and there stood my mom smiling at me. She had my morning bottle and after glancing from her back to the window—it was gone. I have never seen it as it was then. It was just for me and we connected. I met the sun that day and it has been my friend ever since. It follows me as I plant my flowers and blesses my efforts even when its hidden behind the clouds. I will never ever forget the visit.
What a beautiful story, Anna! Blessed by the sun! And what a fabulous memory you must have to recall every detail from a time when you were still taking bottles. Wow!
I’m BAAAAAACK! I missed all of you!!!
Yay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!