We were coming down off the east side of Lookout Pass, in the narrow twisting valley just past Taft, when the rainbow first popped out of the trees and arced across the valley. It was a young rainbow, not very intense and unable to fly very high, but there it was, trying to mis-color the trees on the hillside straight ahead of us.
It wouldn’t let us get very close, of course. Rainbows never do. Young ones might be more adventurous and teasing, but they never forget this important rule of rainbow life. As we drove toward it, it slowly retreated until it sank into the trees and disappeared.
But then we rounded a couple corners, and there it was in front of us. Rainbows can move quickly when they want to, and this one knew all the local shortcuts. It had slipped through the forest faster than we were driving on the freeway.
Again the rainbow slowly withdrew into the trees and disappeared. This time there was a soft noise like… well, like a young rainbow giggling.
A few more turns through the hills, and the rainbow popped up again. And two more times before we got to Seltice and the rainbow, laughing, ran off to play its game with someone else.