I decided to go to a nearby mall one night last week after dinner.  I usually splurge on a pair of Clarks, well-made sandals, at the beginning of every summer season, and this mall had a Clarks store.

I actually bought two pairs and didn’t stop at any store attempting to lure in passersby with signs proclaiming forty percent discount or stop at the Shake Shack for another favorite summertime indulgence.

After my purchase, I just headed for my car, stashed in one of the outdoor lots as far away as it could be.  Easy to find.

OMG. There, sprouting up from the ground, near the Panera, thick, and unusually solid in hues until all the bands of pastels dissipated into a low ceilingless sky, I saw it. The sight pretty much took my breath away.

I know there are scientific explanations for the phenomenon, but I like to think about rainbows as a little bit of magic. I remember a recent conversation with a friend, who, showing her age and good Catholic upbringing, has a preference for naming such sightings as miracles instead of magic, but the feeling is the same.

A miracle is an occurrence that is unexpected, that is personally meaningful and fills you with feelings of luck and good fortune. Upon seeing the rainbow from the parking lot, I wanted to interpret the experience as God wanting me to treat myself well.

I guess my psyche was trying to absolve me of any guilt I might have held for buying the extra pair of shoes, but there was more to it.

When I went on vacation to northern Spain and Portugal some nineteen months earlier I experienced a chain of rainbow sightings. I saw ten rainbows in six days. Of course, the weather changed often, as it could be expected to during late October and early November, but from the moment our bus entered Galicia, to my exit from the continent, through Porto and Amsterdam, rainbows seemed to be as ubiquitous as McDonald’s.

Not that I took any rainbow sighting for granted. Each one was special to me. I remembered where and when I saw it, whether I was alone or shared the event with someone, and how long it lasted.

I often found myself paying extra attention to my surroundings as I looked at the world with what I think of as tourist eyes.

I was on vacation! Seeing the moon rise over the cathedral in Leon or taking note of dogs or horses waiting for their owners to re-join them after a short stop at the village tavern was not surprising. It was just different than what I’d see on a typical Thursday. As a tourist, I let go of many expectations.

Much of the trip’s itinerary also followed the Camino, a path for Christian pilgrims that ended near where Saint James’s bones are said to be buried (Santiago de Compostela). Of course, why wouldn’t I experience miracles along this route?

But, last week, I wasn’t on a pilgrimage. I wasn’t inspired by the experience of seekers who learned how to travel lightly and develop faith that what was needed would be supplied at the right time.

The fortune of timing was not about deserving. The rainbow was not for my eyes only.

The rainbow just hung over Skokie effin’ Boulevard.  By the mall.

It was a reminder to me, that the commonplace can be special, that keeping your eyes open provides its own rewards, that things are always changing, that the changes themselves are miraculous gifts and are for us to interpret and use in making future decisions.

I know that just when you’re ready to stop believing, things can change.

Watching the “show,” life, and appreciating everything, is no small thing.