This rainbow is out early.
It is Sunday and two tourists with big cameras are walking in the middle of the street ahead of me with lens in the shooting position, talking French.
This rainbow is beginning to lose colors but you can still see its bands; yellow, blue, green and pink semicircles. It is difficult to see the precise end of the legs of the rainbow’s arc with a city in the way. If you are a cowboy you would just lasso it, climb up, and slip down on either end like riding a bucking bronco.
This rainbow is gone in a half hour, and a little man in a green suit and bowler cap, ahead of me, carries a bag of money in each little hand.
I hear him laughing as he clicks his heels down the street looking to buy a round of drinks for everybody at his favorite pub.