The Rainbow

It’s been mighty quiet at Fiore Farms with this seemingly endless spell of heat, heat, heat. Last night I snuck out to ride Mystic in the twilight. We had a beautiful journey through the woods, fireflies lighting our way. The only thing marring it was Mystic’s attempts to swerve toward trees and run beneath low-hanging branches. I feel fairly certain he was hoping to knock me off—not typical behavior for him at all; he’s usually a perfect gentleman. But the heat has made him cranky lately, and I don’t really blame him.

Before our ride, while I was tacking Mystic, a rainstorm shook a few raindrops on us. It left a gigantic rainbow in its wake—maybe a peace offering for the weeks and weeks of sweltering weather. I grabbed my camera and caught the rainbow landing in the trees.

You can see James walking in the foreground, nearly unrecognizable without his trademark cowboy hat and jeans. He’d just finished mucking all the sheds and wasn’t exactly in a sky-gazing mood. But when I called out, “James, look—a rainbow!” he stopped and turned. A grin traveled across his face. “We’ve had a lot of rainbows lately. “

“It’s a good sign,” I said.

“I think so,” he agreed, then headed to the house to drink a gallon of water to replenish what he’d sweated out.

The rainbow lingered for a few more minutes, thinning and blurring, until it faded into the clouds.

When I looked at the photo on my computer that night, I noticed what I’d missed in real life: a second, paler rainbow, even bigger than the first.

Two good signs.

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