I walked outside tonight to pick some basil for the bruschetta I was making with dinner, and as I snapped leaves from their stalks, raindrops began plopping down around me.
It's not common to get summer storms in Southern California. So I decided to sit. Right there on the step where our basil pot rests.
I thought of Guy Montag and how pivotal the rainfall in Fahrenheit 451 was for him. He was the first person I knew of who had been cleansed by rain. That was the first book that really taught me about the symbolism of water in literature.
So I sat in my backyard, letting the spotty drops fall on me, washing away the invisible silt that's been coating me for 6 years.
I glanced up at my roofline and that's when I saw the rainbow above. Right over my house. And suddenly I was completely at peace. I knew without a doubt that all would be okay. All was right in the world. I felt so grateful to witness it. Those are the moments in life when you feel most alive, aren't they?
When Mr. Wonderful and I took our first trip together early in our relationship, we saw a full arc rainbow on our drive home from San Francisco. I remember thinking it was a sign. I still believe it was.
And I think maybe the one I saw today was, too. Good things ahead.
