This morning early (pre-dawn) I went to check a site for a client. It had rained during the night and the air was fresh and clean. The birds, having re-discovered spring, were twittering like mad. There was a thin crescent moon in the dark sky, just a sliver of silver.

As I arrived at the designated place, the rain had ended and the sun was barely nudging the horizon, but deep in the canyon (Viewridge cross street) it was dark and cold, with an occasional garish house light or street lamp to light my way.

I often visualize Batty as living in a place like the canyon--she knows where I mean--it would be beautiful and green in the spring like this. (It's dry and dusty and oppressed by the smell of burnable brush in the summer.) For her right now, it's fall, with the promise of cooler weather, I expect.

Today, just at sunrise, it began to rain lightly. The sky got brighter and brighter.

And then there was a rainbow. A full rainbow, bending across the canyon and the valley below, more than 180 degrees, it looked like. I pulled into a pullout at the Top of the Canyon and just sat there for a bit, scheduled meeting could wait (I was early, as usual).

Breathtakingly beautiful. What a glorious start to the day!

God gave Noah the rainbow sign,
No more water, but fire next time.
Pharaoh's army got drownded,
O Mary don't you weep.