It arrived like a verdict— that rainbow— arched over Tucson’s broken breath, a spectrum laid upon a land too used to drought and good intentions gone brittle.
People came out with phones, hungry for wonder, proof that heaven still had a marketing department.
The rain had barely quit falling, and already the city’s thirst began again— for color, for meaning, for something to share.
Out by the wash, the saguaros kept their arms raised, not in praise, but interrogation.
Each thorn a question no sermon could answer. The rainbow lingered, a flag without allegiance, a bruise across the sky.
Then— light slipped, the air forgot its promise, and Tucson returned to its long work of surviving beauty.
A Partial Rainbow Over The Catalinas — Image by kenne
Yesterday we were having a Sonoran hotdog and Copperhead Pale Ale on the porch of the Barrio Brewing Company when a partial Rainbow began to form beyond the old warehouses in the warehouse district of Tucson.
About an hour later, a second rainbow was trying to form after arriving home.
“Daughter And Dad On A Rainbow Day” (Hannah & Jason Morris — Outer Backs 06/07/13) — Image by kenne
Tanuri Ridge Rainbow (07/21/20) — Image by kenne
Morning Rainbow In The Desert (Tucson, Arizona, September 29, 2016) — Image by kenne
Rainbow Over Tanuri Ridge (September 1, 2016) — Image by kenne
After The Desert Rain Photo Essay by kenne
