On the first Saturday of January, while puttering around my house, I happened to look out the window of our back door. A rainbow was spanning the space between our house and the neighbor’s fence.

I called  Caleb to come and see. He obliged my plea and we scuffed into our back door shoes to stand on the patio. I ran back inside because the rainbow presented as a full bow. But no matter what angle I chose, or where I stood,  I could not get the desired photo because of trees or other structures blocking my view. 

Caleb teased me about my lack of height, the nerve.

I shook off the insult and decided to walk to the front,  by my neighbor’s yard because I knew the bow would be seen in its entirety.

But as I stood on the corner and leaned against a pole, the rainbow was less than half of what I saw from the confines of my yard.

On Sunday, we drove Caleb through downpours and sunshine back to his dorm, marking the end of his winter break. At one point, Carl told me to look behind me and there was a beautiful rainbow that I chose to photograph from my side mirror.

After saying our goodbyes and getting those all-important last and “one more” hugs, (to be honest, no matter the proximity, give me all of my kids’ hugs), Carl and I rode home and as we were nearing the point of reentry to the freeway, a huge rainbow came into view. I strained, craned, and contorted my body to get that perfect shot but was nonetheless thwarted. 

As we drew closer to Portland and home, I opened the notes app on my phone and started to write this post because these rainbow sightings were revealing deeper ponderings than just the gift of rain.

Later in the evening, I opened Instagram and saw photograph after photograph of rainbows.
Not just rainbows in the Portland area or throughout Oregon but in different states and each one was very worthy of being posted 😀 

In the words of TLC’s song, Waterfalls:

“Don’t go chasing waterfalls, stick to the rivers and the lakes that you’re used to.”

Well, in this particular case, perhaps we are not meant to chase rainbows.

Perhaps the view from someone else’s yard isn’t always better than the one we inhabit.

Perhaps not every rainbow is meant to be captured in a lens.

Perhaps when stumbling upon a rainbow, we are meant to simply stand still, look up and witness the wonder.

Perhaps it’s those who live in a perpetual desert, who do not see rainbows often.
However, the vast majority of us, have seen plenty of rainbows in our lives. 

Despite this familiarity, why are we often overcome with a desire to capture a rainbow when it comes into view?

Could it be that we have an incurable case of amnesia when it comes to the promises, hope, and wonders that rainbows evoke?

Maybe this is why I felt compelled to document my rainbow sightings.
I wanted evidence to remind me and prove my experience to others. 

Instagram bore witness to the fact of wonder being witnessed here, there, and everywhere.

I am grateful those photos exist because someone, somewhere needed to be reminded of hope. 

Someone else’s yard may be filled with shades of grey instead of rainbows spreading
prisms of beauty over their fence line.

I believe we must not allow distractions to miss seeing the wonder strewn before our eyes. 

The rainbow set before me is meant for my viewing, not the one around the corner. 

There are days when a partial bow will suffice and in other seasons, a double rainbow is necessary.

It doesn’t have to be as big and showy as a rainbow to be equated with wonder.

Yesterday began as usual with a cup of coffee and reading at our dining room table. 

I glanced towards the window as I often do, to see the birds having their Sunday brunch.

My eyes landed on the tiniest movement upon my window sill to discover one of my most frequent reminders of hope. I will admit to taking a photo, no matter the quality because in this specific instance, I am stacking hope upon hope, wonder upon wonder. The ladybug looked as dusty and weather-worn as my window, resembling my life more than I would be prone to admit.

Hope and wonder can be expansive or it can be minuscule, it can be crystal clear or even covered in dust, but how amazingly necessary to buoy our souls.

May you be astonished by wonder this week in all its many shapes, forms, dimensions, and surprising containers.