rainbows chasing

Another saturday walk.
This time, not alone.

I began the day, as I do most days, with waking up. The day started less than ideally since I somehow managed to rip the handle off of my washer/dryer, effectively locking all my pants inside. Then my friends called and said that they had decided to meet at the train station instead of my flat, rendering my frantic cleaning useless (but not the awesome playlist I made).
So I stopped cleaning and watched parts of dear reader until I realized I was going to be late for the train and had to book it to the station. I ran into a small child. He was in my way. If I had looked back, I would know for sure if it was him who was left crying on the ground in my wake. As it is I think it’s safe to assume that he was fine and happy and didn’t even notice.
I made it to the train.
I sat as it moved.
Our talk was small
About things like the English language, and PDA, and the over-sexualization of perfectly good words like “penetrate” that make it difficult to write papers in politics.

But then- when the train stopped- then we began the walk.
At first we took a path which was so muddy and soggy that less than a quarter mile in, we decided to turn around and take the pebbled path.
We walked.
We talked some, but mostly we tried to hide how hard we were breathing from each other, and stopped to take pictures instead of rest breaks.

It’s after that, after the picnic on tree roots overlooking the river below, after the discussions on if it were possible to pee on the birds below us (“Hey look. Those are birds,” Mimi said, “they are below us”) After Mimi and I explained what senior pictures were to our European counterparts, after the batteries in my camera died and Mimi and Nora went back so they could get home in time to work on their projects. After all that, Charlotte and I kept walking, and we saw things. Really great things. I also got very, very wet and cold in the shoes. Charlotte’s boots were waterproof

We were walking, and I was unsuccessfully trying to show her that in order to get the sheep to stay still while you walked towards them you had to send out good vibes. Sheep know about these things. She insisted that it probably isn’t possible to consciously send out good vibes, and she may have been right because they sheep just kept tossing me dirty looks and jogging away. Stupid sheep. Have I mentioned that large numbers of Scottish sheep freak me out? Walk into a group of sheep. One of them is looking at you at all times. And there’s no way to tell what’s going on behind those beady eyes.

Despite my growing fear of sheep, I really love sheep.
(It’s ironic, I know)

You know how sometimes you have in your mind exactly how you picture a place? Exactly how it ought to be?
Today, in Scotland, it was rainy. Patchy clouds of every shade of gray littered the sky. In the valley and along the river was a thick white fog. The green was almost blinding. It was so wet that stepping down hard on any piece of ground brought out water, like squeezing a sponge. Then, as we walked around the hill and looked out over the lake, Charlotte stopped me.

Listen, she said.
There is nothing.
You cannot hear anything
(except a quiet wind. )

I thought it was perfect
And it was
And then,
it got better.

We got to a section so wet and so wide that we couldn’t walk through it or jump over it. I imagine that watery bog of a swampy mess is what crocodiles would thrive in if it weren’t frozen on top. At least I hope. Because, ohmygosh, if crocodiles could survive in frozen climates and wreak terror on Scotland with their dinosaur like vengeance…. What would happen? What hope would we have? HUGE FREEZE PROOF CROCODILES OF SCOTLAND. Brrrr. Makes me squirm just thinking about it… with excitement. I bet I could take one. It’s in my blood. We have alligator wrestlers in my family. I bet it’s a quality the entire genetic line shares. Yeah, I could survive and be queen of the freeze proof crocodiles, a kind but firm ruler. You guys, on the other hand. Pretty sure you’re screwed. Tough luck there

A mildly related side note: We were at a pub quiz the other day and started talking to some Brits. It came to the joke round, during which you put a joke on the back of that round’s answer sheet and they are read aloud and voted on. The team that gets voted to have the winning joke gets ridiculous prizes, like a miley cirus poster and some rubber bands or something. ANYWAYYYYYYYYY, we were talking and I said something to the effect of “Wouldn’t it be funny if instead of a joke we put a fact, like: Why are bubbles round? Answer: Because it is the most energy efficient form as pressure is distributed evenly across the surface. Or: What’s the difference between a crocodile and an alligator? Answer: They’re different species and live in different parts of the world, and I’m not sure but I think crocodiles get bigger and has teeth on the outside… maybe something to do with salt water… I can’t remember.” Which I think would have been a good joke to have read aloud. The brit boys looked at me.
“Is that true? Are they really different?”
A conversation ensued about how much scarier allidiles (alligator + crocodile… come on, do I have to explain everything to you? gosh.) are than sharks and how we would rather be stuck in a shark hole than an crocogator (figure it out.) hole because they seem to live in murkier water and can RUN after you if you make it to land and plus they’re meaner and don’t have that thing where you can just bop them in the nose and they’ll swim away like the little wimps they are (sharks, that is)
(dear sharks, I was just kidding, don’t eat me, please. Please. Really, it was just a joke. Can’t you take a joke? Do you even know what one is? No. NO! I wasn’t insulting your intelligence… sir… ma’am? Oh come on how is it my fault that I can’t tell? No, you don’t all look alike. In conclusion, please don’t eat me. Yes, sharks are just as fierce as crocodiles… and alligators.)
(no they aren’t)
“Yeah,” I said “But I think it’s both crocodiles and alligators that have really strong jaw shutting muscles, but really weak jaw opening muscles so you can hold their mouths shut with one hand. Also, they can’t turn quickly, but they can run fast straight and so if you are being chased you should zigzag a lot.”
The British boys thought this was amazing. Apparently the nature shows are lacking across the ocean.
“So you can run in a circle, backwards, just flicking it off and taunting it and it can’t catch you? Brilliant!”
“Maybe you should carry a rubber band with you, so you can just turn around and wrap it around its mouth real quick and run away and it will be stuck”
“Yeah, or replace it’s toothpaste with glue!”
At this point the one turned to the other with a look of complete disgust.
“You’re such an idiot, it’s a crocodile. I’m sure they can tell the difference between the taste of glue and toothpaste.”


OK BACK TO THE STORY
Soooooooooo… FREEZE PROOF CROCODILE-ALLIGATOR HYBRIDS (yes, lots of yelling and abuse this time around. DEAL WITH IT YOU PANSIES)
So we’re getting our feet thoroughly soaked by the deceptively solid looking ground which tries to suck us down into its boggy depths… or get our feet wet. And we see a shepherd and his dogs herding all his sheep. Over bridges, around corners, and right past us. At first we thought he was yelling at us to “get over there” and “see if you can catch that one.” (Which I almost tried with my good vibes technique). Turns out, he was chatting with his dogs. And his dogs listened. At the risk of sounding cheesy, it was really cool. I thought.

Onward!
We got to a point where we were a bit tired and cold and, as luck would have it, we could see a huge, dark storm cloud of sleet and freezing rain was coming in, offering the perfect excuse to head back without seeming like a wimp. But then we saw the prettiest, tiniest rainbow at the edge of the storm front. We decided to climb the little hill to our side and see it better. As we watched, the rainbow grew. It grew and stretched and stretched and grew until it was all the way across to the other side of the ground. A perfect, full rainbow. I have never seen a rainbow so beautiful in my life. Charlotte and I stood completely silent, staring awestruck as we watched it, hypnotized until the wind blew the sleet into our faces. We turned and started walking. Very quickly. And the rainbow followed us. It was catching up, we didn’t mind. We kept walking, trying to avoid being stuck in freezing weather, miles away from civilization, and soaking wet. But that rainbow. Naturally both our cameras were out of batteries, so there is no proof but the image just burned into my head. The green and shiny fields, the steep and rocky hills, the lake, the textured sky, the dark storm clouds and, most of all, that bright, bright rainbow. God, that rainbow. We kept stopping to turn and look at it. It was mesmerizing. At one point, and I am not exaggerating, the end was maybe 100m from us. If it weren’t across the bog, I could have walked over and touched it. We could see where it hit the ground, and then, much further away, where the other side hit the ground. I’d never been attacked by a rainbow before, but this one seemed intent on catching us and giving us hypothermia. It kept following us with that sheet of rain, both astounding and threatening. Eventually it was over top of the frozen lake, and we could see it dive into the lake and light up the water underneath it with color, sort of like in Fantasia where they little goats and unicorns jump into the rainbow puddles and it splashes the colors and there is that really adorable little Pegasus that is learning to fly and it's so cute I just want to cuddle it and play in the rainbows coochie coochie yes, who's a cutie? who's a… oh... yeah… I mean *cough* it was alright.

Of course, it had to end, and did so right when people came around the hillside, except for the little side rainbow. Although, for about thirty seconds, when the hills were empty again, it reappeared in full and then vanished completely as the rain clouds turned and headed east. Amazing.

Little final pieces of interest:
Further down the mountain, the fog had rolled in and at one point when we looked away from the hill, we could see nothing but white and then a strip from the sun onto where it hit on the river. It was incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it. It looked so… weird. So painting like. Later, the sun was so covered it looked like the moon, and the reflection on the water was so bright you couldn’t look at it. It looked like we were on another planet, one with two suns directly above each other. So weird, so great, but also such an inopportune time for a lack of camera. Also, in hindsight I think maybe the rainbow wasn’t so much attacking as trying to play tag.

tl;dr version: I was chased down by a rainbow. I have reason to believe it had harmful intentions.