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Writer's pictureRosemary Lawrey

2 - following the rainbow

For car drivers, yellow lines are a forbidding obstruction. For walkers, they are an invitation to discovery, and I'm never quite sure where the ones marking my street's curbsides will lead me. Very late out the door this afternoon, I wasn't, to be honest, expecting any surprises. But turning the very first corner, I looked down to where the double yellows faded into the distance, only to see them merge into a great fat rainbow, one end at the bottom of the hill, the other end dipping into the sea beyond. Following these shimmering lines in the sky took me along the esplanade to the next village. A lone detectorist bobbed and twirled rhythmically as he swept the shoreline for treasure. Had he seen the rainbow's end? My walk took me through every colour of sky and into the sunset, and as darkness fell I made my way back along the beach and home, twinkling harbour and navigation lamps to light my way.


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