Shane took this picture of me on the beach yesterday afternoon. That’s my first pina colada (or you can call it a mai tai chaser, since that’s what it was). The kids were in the water already, jumping in the knee-slapping Ka’anapali waves. Kendra and Kanoe and I were catching up, enjoying the feeling of the soft tropical air and the sun on our faces.
It started to rain, but an afternoon rain in
Maui is sometimes hard to discern. People were showering off their sandy feet and bottoms nearby, so I thought it was just some errant spritz from that. Or the salty ocean spray from the waves lapping at the shore. Or maybe the kids splashing us a little as they ran up to grab a towel, dripping wet.
Kendra looked up, straw in her mouth as she continue to sip her lava flow (a pina colada poured over a jammy strawberry puree). “Hey, it’s a rainbow,” she pointed.
And it wasn’t a “regular” rainbow, fading out as soon as it appeared. It was Technicolor brightness, far more exciting and mesmerizing than eight colors side-by-side would seem. There were shades and subtle hues in between. All the colors of the rainbow seems like so much more than just “all the colors.” And it lasted for a good 10 minutes. It became so commonplace, a fixture in our new Maui environment, that when I yelled to the girls, nearby making sand castles, they said, “Yeah, we saw it,” and kept right on digging in the coral-laced sand.
Shane laughed and showed us this picture, taken at just the right angle at just the right time. We called it my unicorn horn, a rainbow that I can just activate with my thoughts. But what if I can? Who really says what “reality” is? Maybe this rainbow is commonplace, a fixture in my life, and I have only just seen it for the first time?
Big thoughts. Thank goodness I have another week to figure it all out…