I’m looking at old posts and eliminating those that just don’t have any reason to hang around, taking up space and not being read. But this one? I think it’s worth reposting. It’s based on the old style of Daily Prompts and I’ve included that, too. It was originally posted on my birthday five years ago. 🙂

January 7, 2014 Write about anything you’d like, but make sure that all seven colors of the rainbow — red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet — make an appearance in the post, either through word or image.

“Let the sun stay in my back, unseen!
The waterfall I now behold with growing
Delight as it roars down to the ravine.
From fall to fall a thousand streams are flowing.
A thousand more are plunging, effervescent,
And high up in the air the spray is glowing.
Out of this thunder rises, iridescent,
Enduring through all change the motley bow,
Now painted clearly, now evanescent,
Spreading a fragrant, cooling spray below.
The rainbow mirrors human love and strive:
In many-hued reflection we have life.”
Goethe, Faust II, trans. Walter Kauffman

m-EkoN8lNLXW1r_M7xjEIgAWe were just girls, nearly women. Young women. It now seems very long ago and very far away. “A secret, fraternal, Masonic organization for girls of teen age.” Love, religion, nature, immortality, fidelity, patriotism and service. The two offices I held during those brief years were Nature (yellow) and Service. Sweet prophecy? I couldn’t know back then, aged fourteen, that love of nature and service to others as a teacher would turn out to be my life.


Denver's pridefest parade through downtownWe sat on a grassy hillside in Cheeseman Park looking down toward Colfax. We couldn’t see the street, but we could hear the commotion, yelling and music.

“You wouldn’t march in that? Why?”

“It’s ridiculous. If ALL they are is the way they f… then they need more than a parade to save them. I hope I’m more than my ‘sexual preference.’ Preference? Who’d choose this? I’m shut out from the basic, most natural, most common unit of human society. I won’t have a family. I won’t have a wife and a house and all of the things other people take for granted. I’m not ‘proud’ of it.”

I knew this was true. I knew that however much I loved him — or he loved me — that love was not going to change a certain basic and elemental fact of his nature.

“You’re not ashamed of it, are you? That’s…”

“No. What is there to be ashamed of? It’s a simple fact of my existence. I have to make a life around it. Everyone makes a life around something. Come here, life.” He pulled me toward him. “You know those guys marching in that parade? They wouldn’t understand this.” He kissed me long and hard. “It’s all one or the other for them. They’re more narrow minded than straights.”


sspaceRainbow flags hung over balconies with the big word, “Pace” printed on them. Italy was “on our side” in the fracas in Iraq. It didn’t occur to me what that meant until I wandered around the Pinacoteca of the Castello Sforza and found galleries that were open in 2000 were, in 2004, closed.

A scaffold surrounded the cathedral, too, and I wasn’t sure if it was for repair and restoration or for something more sinister. The sanctuary was shut to everyone but people who were there to pray. There was no wandering around its cavernous interior, visiting chapels and looking at paintings, sculptures, reliquaries and puzzling over their makers and the aspirations or sorrows of those who loved them in centuries past. 

I was relegated to the crypt and there I saw the place where St. Ambrose baptized St. Augustine. I tDuomo_di_milano_sivualttarihought about that. In writing Martin of Gfenn I’d developed a kind of friendship with St. Augustine. Martin’s Commander refers to St. Augustine often and the Rule of the Order of the Knights of St. Lazarus is based on St. Augustine’s rule for life in a religious community. I had read St. Augustine’s Confessions and pieces of The City of God and overall I’d come to like him, too. I went down the narrow stone steps to the bottom of the cathedral, the bottom? I was sure that it was not. I was sure that if there were steps I would go down and down and down until I would find myself at the beginning of time.


Hike in Storms — An Offer Accepted. Circular Rainbow

Daily Prompt Race the Clock Here’s the title of your post: “An Offer I Couldn’t Refuse.” Set a timer for ten minutes, and write it. Go!

The place was completely empty except for the woman and her dog, a big dog but not one of those giant dogs like an Irish wolfhound or something, just a big shaggy gray and white dog with brown eyes, no tail and a smile on her face. Dogs smile. Don’t give me that, and this one had, for her nickname, “Smiler.”

From time to time the sky poured buckets, but that was one of the motivations that had brought them out here. Rain kept most people away. The woman loved the rain because it didn’t happen often and it made rapid changes to the landscape that she loved to watch, to be in. She had a circuit visiting small waterfalls and tiny flowers. The black sage threw its fragrance into the air. She thought about what she’d been told about Indians wearing the sage in their armpits so the deer wouldn’t smell them coming,

“I think that would work, Molly.”

Molly continued to smile, but “Smiler” sometimes did talk. It was well known that once she’d even said, “Hello.”

“Let’s go up there, OK? You want to go to the top?”

Like her owner, Molly always wanted to go to the top, even though on a day like today there wouldn’t be much of a view. They were about a third of the way up the steep fire trail under the electric wires when the sky cut loose. “Hey Molly, we’re fucked!” Molly shook out her fur and smiled. They sat down on a rocky promontory to wait out the blast of rain.

Storms like these in Southern California came in waves. One could even see them coming in the distance and judge from their width how long they’d last. After three or four minutes, the shower had moved on. The sun came out from a crack between clouds. Just at the moment she looked up, there in front of her, so close she could have touched it were it not a phenomenon of light and water, was a perfect circle of color.

“Thank you,” she said to the turbulent sky, the dark green hills, the red dirt, the fragrant plants, to the rain that returned.


Black Sage in Bloom