Sunday morning I impulsively made a solo escape while the rest of the family slept. I left a note and my half-finished mug of coffee on the counter, threw a coat over my pajamas, and drove to Claude Moore Park to try to photograph the sunrise.
The air was warm and damp with recent rain, and smelled of spring. The birds were making an epic racket; little birds cheeping and chirping in the trees, and Canada Geese engaging in a territorial battle involving both ponds and extreme levels of honking.
As is usual when I intend to see the sunrise, I didn’t pick a day with great color, or maybe I was out too late in the morning to capture it.
But still, it was a beautiful morning.
And then I turned around, away from the sunrise, and saw this:
How beautiful, how special, how rare, I thought. I began running around to the other side of the pond, to try to get a shot with the water and the rainbow before it disappeared, and while running I turned to see if the rainbow was still there, and caught this:
The building at the end of the rainbow is the Claude Moore Park Visitor’s Center, where my mother’s office was located for many years. Even after her office was moved, it’s where she preferred to be, talking with visitors and her co-workers, creating fabric trees, holding monarchs, and sharing the turtles with her grandkids.
I can’t imagine a more clear and beautiful greeting from my mother than that.