End of the rainbow?

According to that ever-so-scientific source, Wikipedia:

"The Irish Leprechaun's secret hiding place for his pot of gold is usually said to be at the end of the rainbow. This place is impossible to reach, because the rainbow is an optical effect which depends on the location of the viewer. When walking towards the end of a rainbow, it will move further (sic) away."

Okay, sure, there don't seem to be any fuzzy-hatted leprechauns (hoisting a Guinness and some Lucky Charms?) dancing around a pot of gold, but it certainly seems to appear that the rainbow ends in the backyard of the house toward the foreground of this photo. The coloured bands are seen clearly in front of the trees and seem to travel over the roof and down the face of the building. Odd -- I've never seen anything like that before.

In an unrelated story, young Johnny from across the road came out of the closet at that precise moment.

A Licky Boom Boom Down.

Snow. And I'm not talking about the infamous, Vanilla-Ice wannabe from the bowl-cut years of my youth, either. October 12, and snow. Not that I'm complaining. No, instead, I jumped around in excitement like a wee lad and made a beeline through the office to inform everyone not-so-blessed with a window that the first snow of the season was upon us. Undoubtedly, not the last.

Of course, nobody believed me. Then -- almost in unison -- came the crunching sound of blinds being pulled open like Christmas presents and the sight of people rubbing their eyes in disbelief like groundhogs in spring. Shnow, light and fluffy. Really. The first flash of flurries lasted about ten minutes and stuck to leaves and grass before the sun came out and buried them in the ground. Winds, wailing like Joe Cocker. Then the temperature dropped even more and, at writing, the ground is now covered like the distinguished salt-and-pepper hair of an aging actor. Just not in a bowl cut.

Vet, vet, vet -- nyet?

'Twas a wet one today and, despite threats of tornadoes -- or at the very least, funnel clouds -- we saw a storm gorgeous in its intensity for a couple of hours this afternoon. The inky blackness blew in quickly, covering the page of the sky in one fast-moving fell swoop. Not quite the usual calm you feel before a big storm, but you knew something intense was coming nonetheless. Trees bent sideways. Losing their leaves. Grey to black. Darker, like troops rushing into an unknown position. And then the rains fell. Harder. Then drove sideways, painting the roads in waves, racing in formation -- lines across, marching downhill. Fireworks in the sky, followed by tremendous baritones ushered in by wood winds. And now, it is clear. Yet nowhere as enthralling.