The weather forecast for the season’s last planned picnic at Millennium Park had us more than a little tentative.

As my friend Holly said, “It’s okay being cold OR getting a little wet, but I’m not a fan of cold AND wet.”

With temperatures predicted to be in the low to mid-sixties and a 50-50 chance of rain, some of our concert-going regulars bailed.

But hungry for the last bit of summer, great grazing food, or just music fans, we put together a respectably sized group anyway.

I was the first to arrive. I quickly staked out turf for an expandable party and opened our first bottle of wine.

As each of us arrived, we pulled our collapsible lawn chairs out of their pouches, filled our clear plastic cups and paced around our swatch of lawn.

We nibbled on exotic chesses, artisan breads and the miniature alfajors, Peruvian sandwich cookies, Marena brought (acknowledging that we couldn’t wait until dessert to sample them).

Periodically, we’d also look at the sky. It was pretty gray. We were on ALERT.

We didn’t want to have to run for cover after the conductor’s baton came down. We didn’t want to admit we were foolhardy in making a picnic and traveling downtown for an event that wouldn’t take place.

“Did you feel that?” “I think I felt a drop.”

We began speaking in a strange sort of code. We didn’t want to entertain the thought that we might get soaked. We wanted to be reassured that we’d all stay dry, that the concert would take place as planned.

After a few rounds of Did you feel that? we went maybe ten minutes without feeling compelled to ask.

How could it be that we got off so lucky? That only a few raindrops fell on the park and the severe weather alert was over? But no more rain fell.

We looked at the sky again. It was still gray. But between the lattice-like connecting steel tubes that held the speakers in place and stretched out over the lawn, we could see the faint outline of a rainbow.

The colors were not super bright. This was an urban sort of rainbow, not an enchanted leprechaun animation, after all. But the color spectrum and arch was unmistakable.

How great it is to have such a tangible sign of good fortune!

Okay, most of us have positive associations with rainbows. As children watching The Wizard of Oz, we imagined a colorful land of little people and wish-fulfilling ruby slippers.

Creativity, inspiration, and social justice have all been associated with rainbows.

When I first made out the colors and shape of the rainbow, I felt that it was a sign that the rain had ended, and I didn’t have to be anxious about the weather ruining my plans.

But not just as a sign, the fact of being able to SEE the rainbow made me feel doubly lucky.

Water, as rain, forming a sort of prism, bends sunlight to different degrees.

In order to see a rainbow, the sun needs to be 42° or lower in the horizon. Sunrise and sunset are the best times to see rainbows. I guess that 7:15 PM CT, just before sunset, was a good time.

Being in the right place at the right time to see a rainbow is no small thing.