The Weather Channel app on my Android device said that dry conditions would continue for my bicycle ride home.  After a mile, however, I stopped to put on my rain-jacket.

I work in Oregon and live in Washington, twice a day crossing the mighty Columbia River that separates these states.  The 8.8-mile ride includes a two-mile span over the Glenn Jackson bridge which carries four lanes of Interstate-205 in each direction over the river.  Between the north- and south-bound lanes, is a 9-foot wide pedestrian and bicycle lane.

My greatest pleasure during the commute comes on clear days at the top of the bridge in Washington State, overlooking the Columbia River.  In the morning, the sun rises behind the sharply-peaked Mt. Hood, reflecting over the expanse of water to the east.

It’s only a lousy Android camera, folks. – A sunny morning, September 2012

This Monday past, however, an unlikely thing happened.  A spring shower, forecast to begin later, started up as the sun was setting, and as my commute home began.  As I approached the bottom of the bridge, the declining sun cut in under the clouds, and shining through the showers over the river, painted the bottoms of the clouds, the river, the shore, and even the rain itself in sepia tones.

The rainbow to the east was so wide it seemed to land on either side of the river.  Cars were stopping on the bridge to take photographs.

At the top of the bridge, the sun setting in the opposite direction of the rainbow made it worth being drenched.

If such reminders and gifts could be predicted, I would happily pack the real camera on such a day.