I don’t even know why but when I think of the word colorful, I immediately think of rainbows. When I get to thinking of rainbows, it reminds me of sunshine and rain at once, which sends me spiraling down another thought pattern of chasing bees and capturing them in empty soda bottles. I was a really strange kid. I love rainbows though, they’re vibrant and colorful and I never did figure out if there really was a pot of gold at the end of one. I am sort of disappointed in that, I had high hopes of finding myself a leprechaun before I became a full fledged adult. For some reason rainbows and leprechauns just seem like a natural conclusion to something so mystical, even though I know the boring science behind what makes such a wonderfully colorful sight. That was the joy of being a kid, you didn’t really know or understand the science behind the magical things that happened, they just appeared to be of a mystic nature which conjured up ideas and stories in your mind, tickling the imagination. Now, as an adult, the most bright and colorful thing in my life is my kids because come on, they just have an abundance of untainted sweetness to them.
What A Lovely Rainbow!