Why Rainbows Wait for Wings — All morning, Celia carried seven little paint pots along the furrowed meadow, brushing color onto wet air where the rain had just stopped. Read the full story →
All morning, Celia carried seven little paint pots along the furrowed meadow, brushing color onto wet air where the rain had just stopped. The rainbow kept fading before she reached violet. Drops ticked from the daisy leaves; the earth smelled dark and sweet. Celia sat among the tall stems and whispered, “Please, stay long enough.”
A glass-wing moth, thin as a sigh, landed on her sleeve though moths usually slept by day. Its clear wings caught every stripe Celia had painted, but only when it was still. When it fluttered too soon, the colors broke apart into silver sparks.
So Celia waited. The moth waited too, opening and closing its wings slowly while clouds drifted like soft sheep over the hills. At last, the rainbow bent down and poured one gentle stripe after another into the moth’s wings. From that afternoon on, rainbows learned to linger whenever patient wings rose over wildflowers. If you look between the tall blossoms, you may spot the small witness who kept the secret.
