Notable bits of yesterday

First hints of the sunset cast long shadows on the ground, but the trees are still a brilliant green against the grayish but bright sky. Drying puddles adorn the uneven asphalt, and only a couple of cars are left in the enormous parking lot by the technology building. One of them is my small blue convertible.

Its windows are open, its roof is raised. Strange. I left it down this morning, no doubt. Perhaps my husband put it up? But he didn't use the car, doesn't have the keys with him, couldn't even get inside unless he jumped over the doors. No, it wasn't him.
Stepping close, it is still hard to believe it rained - the surface of the paint is a truer color, cleaner, but no water droplets cling to the top or the sides. The textile of the roof looks strange, too - a little folded, the creases darker than the stretched bits. Upon opening the door, the rain is undeniable  - a field of fat drops rests upon the seats and backs of the leather chairs, and their amount is little - how many from the open windows, how few because the roof got closed? And it didn't fully - it was put up, the hinge that hooks it to the front pillar of the windshield untouched.
Someone saw a convertible being rained in, came by, and tried to minimize the damage.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
About an hour later, mid sunset, the full moon, pale and huge, rose in the still blue sky over a suburban high-riser. Framed on its upper left with dense cotton clouds and on its bottom right by the blinding yellow reflection of the dying day in the office building's windows, it hung as a transparent image of its grooved and catered original.

When the sun was low enough to paint the clouds a brown burgundy and the moon still a framed eyeful, a vivid rainbow opened against the dark cotton, all seven colors brilliantly distinct and full.
I saw a rainbow over the moon.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sometimes, I am reminded why despite often being the greatest annoyance, Vanya keeps being welcomed by heart regardless my minds stubborn skepticism.
He told us that when he was little and discovered that he could make rainbows in the sunlight with a flower sprinkler, he sprinkled, sprinkled and sprinkled, and felt like god: "Haha! I've made a RAINBOW!!".
When I first started observing rainbows in waterfalls, and sprinklers, and splashes from car wheels - my mind took it a scientific fact. When I was able to reproduce it myself, it was pretty, but made perfect sense.
It is nice to become aware that it could make someone feel on top of the world.