Rainbow’s end

Rainbows may be a physical manifestation of moisture and light but I much prefer to think of them in terms of their magical and mystical powers. Yesterday I saw the Inter Island Ferry from Wellington cruise right through a rainbow in the harbour and imagined a fleeting Bermuda Triangle moment.  I hope those ferry passengers scooped up a golden coin or two for luck from the stash that the fairies and leprechauns will have hidden there.

Last weekend the luck of the Irish ran out for a dear friend of mine who left this world for whatever might be on the other side of the pearly games.  On my last trip home we had a reunion with other mutual friends and as always she was the life and soul of the party.  It’s hard to believe that she will no longer give me a hard time about what I write on my blog.  She was never a fan of my baking posts and thought I was too self-indulgent with my basset stories but that said I was always so chuffed that she bothered to read it at all.

Mary has a special place in my heart for being the one that lead me astray when I first worked in London.  She was the person that listening for hours to all my woes as I climbed the corporate ladder and was the first to tell me to get over myself and knuckle down instead.  When I was studying for my MBA she gladly read my assignments and whilst assiduously proof reading was never shy in offering her own wit and wisdom to those organisational conundrums I was writing about.  Only two weeks ago I happened to pull out my graduation photograph and there she was beaming out as pleased as punch and quite rightly taking some of the credit for me passing at all.

For every rainbow I’ve seen this week I thought of Mary and all she brought to the world. The bright colours and that hint of Irish mischief of hiding the gold just to keep you on your toes and make sure that you keep the party of life going.