Saturday, July 11, 2009

rainbows

Today, as I was turning a corner on my pre-sunset walk in the light rain, I was suddenly bombarded by a vibrant rainbow ahead of me. It was so loud and robust, so technicolor-ally present, that all I could do was just stare in awe as I walked "closer" and closer to it. As I continued to walk onto College Avenue with my eyes fixed on the sky, it was as if I had walked into a movie scene where people everywhere were stopping, coming out of the coffeeshops and their cars, and all - adults, children, old people - were looking up and pointing at the sky. As I was marveling at the people's reactions to the rainbow, a car driving near me opened its window and the passenger inside called out, "Look at the rainbow above you!" to make sure I didn't miss this magnificent sight.

When I saw people taking pictures, it deepened my nagging thought throughout this entire walk, which was to run back to my apartment and grab my camera so I could catch this moment forever.

But I just wanted to relax and enjoy this walk with this rainbow (and its fainter neighbors). I studied the "ends" of the rainbow, which made me think about pots of gold, leprechauns, and lucky charms. I then looked at the sides of the rainbow where I saw the rain-mist varying the intensity of the colors in a steady, fluid rhythm. Then my eyes meandered closer to the center of the bow where the light seemed the most intense - my thoughts became about Noah and God's promise to him after the flood had subsided. I imagined the rainbow that God gave to Noah was very vibrant and intense like the one before me, as if to demonstrate how steadfast and passionate his promise and love to Noah was. As I walked onto Broadway and observed how the view of the rainbow changed as it landed in the trees of the high hills of North Oakland, I thought of unicorns basking in the rainbow's light in mystical forests.

I decided that as much as I was worried about regretting it later, I simply did not want to go back to get my camera. I then seemed to console myself by asking, "Is life about getting a picture of something, or about living in the moment?"

Tonight, I'm glad I chose the latter.