Leaking Rainbows

A few days ago, I went down to the bottom of my yard to refill my chickens’ watering cans. I was feeling pretty sprightly because we had just replaced our old hose with a newer, longer model. This hose reaches all the way from the house and down to the gate of the chicken yard. No more lugging 5 gallon buckets of water up and down hill for this old lady.

The pressure through the new hose seemed a little weak, as I rinsed out the watering cans and stood watching them fill.  It was taking a long time to fill but I stood in the heat watching the water swirling into both 5 gallon cans. It wasn’t till I was finally through filling the second can that I looked back toward the house and saw the rainbow. A huge plume of water was escaping the hose and spraying up and falling again in a rainbow.

It was so unexpected and so lovely and right next to my clothes line. All of the nearly dry towels and jeans were right in the soaking rainbow. I was torn between annoyance and amusement.

There’s only so much time you can spend between annoyance and amusement before you have to do something about the situation. I could have unloaded the drying rack and brought it all inside to toss in the dryer.  I left them dripping rainbow water and turned the hose off.

By the next afternoon, I’d repaired the hose and the towels and the clothes were dry. They smelled of sun and rainbow.

The hose isn’t new anymore, it’s been damaged and repaired. I walk past the repair each day on my way down the hill; it reminds me that breaking isn’t the end. Breaking is the place where water shatters into a rainbow of light.

None of us is new, anymore.

We’ve all been damaged and repaired and will be damaged again. We should be so lucky to break into such startling beauty. Revealing the pain in storms of light and then,

and then,

we should be so lucky to be so easily repaired.

 

 

 

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