It had been cloudy, threatening along the horizon and spitting rain. We had cooked supper early, wanting to get things cleaned up and stowed before the coming storm hit. As I was washing dishes, I heard her say, “Look at this light!” The sun had broken out from the clouds near the western horizon, painting the undersides of the clouds and the ground with a golden, almost orange light I have only seen a few times in my life.
I left the dishes and we took the bikes out the boardwalk to try to get a few pictures.
The colors changed every few minutes, as the sun set and the clouds moved. It was raining to the northwest, a band of dark that extended out to sea. The light shifted, and then there was this. A broad section of rainbow, not complete, but bright, standing out across the marshgrass. You use the camera you have, which in this case is a small pocket digital, and you take what you can. This does not begin to capture the drama of that sky. It lasted about 15 minutes, then the sun set behind the clouds in the west and the rainbow disappeared from the ground up, like a curtain being brought up from the beach, extinguishing the show.
We biked back to the campsite, and I finished cleaning up. The storm passed just to the north of us and out to sea. This morning the sky is clear and it promises to be hot. Today will be a day for the beach.
God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform. He plants his footsteps in the sea, and rides upon the storm.