Double Rainbow

Summertime in our neighborhood is busy. People roam the streets much later, or sit out on decks or porches well past our bedtime.  Without many yards to speak of, the whole street becomes a kind of playground for children of various ages and sizes, some remarkably little to be riding around at dusk without helmets or regard for approaching cars in the street.  I drive slowly, cautiously in my neighborhood in the summer.

Summertime in our neighborhood is loud.  With all these people spending more time outside, we are more aware of their noise through our own open windows.  When I heard a croaky voice shouting across the neighborhood the other night, I wasn't surprised that I could hear every word.

Sometimes I'm annoyed that in this little pocket of humanity, we bump up so close to each other that nobody can have a party without all of us feeling like eavesdroppers.

But the other night, I was feeling more impish, so when the yelling began I ran up to my closet window and called out in reply to the invisible shouter, "What?!  What are you guys seeing?  What rainbow?  I don't see a rainbow!"

I grabbed our camera and went out to see what all the ruckus was about.
Two kids were on my grass, raptly looking at a double rainbow.
By the time I got my camera out, this was the best shot I could get:

"We almost saw where that one ended!"  they told me excitedly.
"Did you find the pot of gold at the end of it, then?" I asked.
"Almost!"

I couldn't tell if they believed themselves or not.
But the moment felt friendly and fun and for once, I was glad I hadn't been such a party pooper.

Maybe double rainbows aren't such a bad reason to shout across the whole neighborhood, after all.