One of my favorite natural phenomena is rainbows. They are a bit of serendipity that calms my soul and fills it with wonder. For me, watching a rainbow from its faint beginning, as it builds to its full bright layers of hue, until it leaves the sky a little emptier and alone, is a spiritual experience.

I’ve never been able to take a good rainbow picture, but here’s some from the last rainbow I saw. I’ve seen better. You probably have, too.

So, what is not to like about rainbows?

The image of rainbows barely entered the picture when Jesse Jackson formed his separatist, political action group, the Rainbow Coalition. It was the original gay-pride flag that first flew in the San Francisco Gay Freedom Day Parade in 1978 that had already made the symbol stick. Wikipedia will bring you up to speed on this, if you want to take a look.

Someone yesterday said something to the effect that: rainbow=gay. Therefore, the colors on my blog are indicative of a sexual orientation. That is silly. Rainbows aren’t gay. Gay people can’t lay exclusive claim to rainbows. No one, not Jesse, or anyone who flies a rainbow flag, or puts a rainbow on their car, or buys a rainbow t-shirt for their little girl to wear owns the rainbow.

No one owns a rainbow. That’s one the best things about them. They are free for everyone, equally.