End of the Rainbow

Another day, another shower, another stunning display of refracted light. Day before yesterday I stepped off the train to a scene of giddiness and awe. Hardened D.C. commuters stopped their march toward turnstile and home. They juggled umbrellas and briefcases. They looked up.

The double rainbow arched all the way over Route 66, and it lingered for 10 minutes or more. This is what the smart phone has wrought: a generation of nature photographers. People who don't have to slap their foreheads and say, "I wish I had my camera." We always have our cameras.

So when nature gives us a picture show we're there to snap it. And snap it. And snap it. And snap it.

All this beauty and bother put people in a jolly mood. We broke the code. We talked with each other. Even Metro employees. One train conductor pointed up as we walked toward the station. We smiled and nodded. Another (the one who should have been starting up the next train, I think) said, "Look at the rainbow. I'm gonna look for my pot of gold."

Vienna: It's not just the last stop on the Orange Line — it's the end of the rainbow.