Our very first evening on the tundra, about an hour after we arrived at our cabin on the bluff, mere moments after finishing our heaping plates of spaghetti, we were sitting at the table when we heard someone gasp. Robbi’s brother or sister, I think. We wondered what was wrong. As it turned out, something was just right. As directed, we looked out the window. Outside was the most astonishing rainbow any of us had ever seen.
And, in fact, it was not just one rainbow. It was two, one piled on top of the other. We weren’t sure what we’d done to receive such a gift, other than show up in the first place. Which, in light of the 36-hour journey, was no small feat, we admitted.
Perhaps Alaska was just thanking us for putting in the effort to arrive.
We walked through the compound and over to the edge of the bluff, eager to catch site of the pot of gold that would justify such a display. But the rainbow refused to show its hand. It extended well across the river, past the opposite shore.
Somewhere, over on a far patch of tundra grasses, I suspect a bear or caribou is beholding whatever it is the leprechauns of the tundra do where rainbows such as this one end.
But whatever that is could never match the grand display before our eyes. This was one of those times when reality is even better than the stuff of fairy tales.