Allophile

September is a month...

...of rainbows.
(Don't worry...Reallly, this is not going to be a corny posting, full of saccharine platitudes à la Thomas Kinkaid...read on...)

I've been home all day and evening with a nasty end-of-summer cold. Not enough energy to go out, but too listless to sleep. Dayquil had my head in a fog all day, and Nyquil hasn't kicked in yet...
Stuck here, then, I finally got around to reorganizing some things, including dealing with a pile of photos in the corner of the spare room--old pictures from my pre-digital days that I've wanted to scan into the computer for months now...

Looking at all these images, I came across three photos of rainbows, all taken coincidentally in the month of September, but in very different places.

Like most children, I guess, I was always fascinated by rainbows--how could something so substantial-looking be so ephemeral? Growing up in in the rainy climate of northern Germany, so many childhood days were punctuated by the bands of color in the sky...and then when we lived in Arizona, the summer monsoons that would march across the high desert would leave behind them impossible combinations of rainbows and lightning over the distant mountains...

Occasionally during evening commutes here in Seattle, I've actually been thankful for rain-induced gridlock, allowing me to safely stare at a rainbow off to the east as the sun peeks out from a suddenly clear western sky...
But so much better than glimpsing a rainbow while driving is to be at home and to look out the window and see the luminous arc of color...and to have a camera.

Despite Seattle's reputation of being a place where life is lived under everpresent grey, the truth is that summers here are mostly DRY. The grass turns brown under a cloudless sky; mediterranean flora flourishes. This year was the driest summer in years--over 90 days with no significant rainfall. But, last week fall arrived, and the rain fell...
and one evening, as the sun fought back, we got a glimpse of this double-rainbow from our balcony:
(Who knew that Renton could be so scenic?)

That view reminded me of an evening years ago, at the beginning of my year in France. I had the surprise of coming home from the grocery-store, and looking out my window to this view:
I couldn't have asked for a more perfect moment to take a photo of the Paris skyline. There was literally gold at the end of the rainbow--the golden-domed roof of the Église des Invalides, where Napoleon I lies buried. (Emperor worship is alive and well, even in staunchly secular and republican France) The following spring, when the leaves grew back, the view of the Eiffel tower was obscured by the foliage. And now, the building where I lived has been torn down, I've heard...So this particular view, hélas, is no more...

Well, that was way back in the twentieth century...

Closer to now--September of last year.
In western Nicaragua, as in much of Central America, the rainy season (what they call 'winter') lasts from May to November. Usually that means sunny hot mornings that produce towering clouds that explode in afternoon downpours, and then after the brief cool respite, a steamy evening...But one morning we awoke to the loud drumming of rain on our tin roof...As we finished breakfast, the rain let up, and then voilà:
The rainbow conveniently ends, as you can see, in a treetop full of red llama del bosque blossoms...No pot-o'-gold in Nicaragua, but plenty of flowers in the wet season...

Who knew that Day- and Ny-quil could inspire one to post rainbows?
A coincidence of the calendar, that all these photos were taken in September...
...which ends today.