End of world

It was a night of dazzling meteorological phenomenon at the library tonight. And we do have some windows there to see it. We started with torrential downpours, hail, and accompanying blasts of lightning. It felt ominous and cozy, a good feeling for a library. As the storms broke up into dark and light showers in scattered sunshine we all started wondering about rainbows at the same time. And there one was, to the east, comically perfect, a great arc, framing a copse of trees between our parking lot and where the neighbors' backyards started. Each color was richly and evenly flooded in, like a child's drawing of a rainbow. After much gawking and wonderment and phone pictures and high spirits the rainbow faded and the northern storm clouds grew wild and dramatic. Black-dark clouds cut across a swath of sun-blasted white clouds with enough drama one could feel the impression of it in one's stomach. We all gathered at the back windows of the library as the sun set. The white and black wild and operatic clouds presided over and held in a strange orange glow of sunset.

It was all too much for someone, and they asked "Is the world coming to an end?"

And someone else quietly said "Yes. But slowly."