Because of my forty percent eyesight, I am no longer able to drive. As you can imagine, this causes me tremendous frustration. I used to feel that the word frustration had been specifically designed with ME in mind! Then an incident occurred which somehow makes me (figuratively and literally!) able to see things with more perspective.

A friend of mine, Lisa Perry, was driving me home from the shops. I had just bought a load of groceries and was feeling very satisfied and content. She turned the corner and that was when we saw it.

The rainbow.

It was this full arc of a rainbow that went from one end of the sky to the other. It seemed unbelievably close. It seemed to be no further away than about a hundred metres.

“Lisa….Lisa…,”I said in a low, almost guttural sounding voice, “pull over, pull over and stop the car. Please.”

She did so. I stared. I had seen many rainbows before. I had seen their colours: pink, orange, mauve, blue…..I had seen them countless times. But never, ever as I saw them in that typically South African early evening light.

That rainbow had huge bands of colour that positively seemed to spin you towards them. Rich, deep, mesmerising. I sat in the car and I thought: Gaynor, you must remember this rainbow. Don’t you ever dare forget it!

And remember it I have.

So often I find myself coming back from the shops, laden with bags, and cursing the fact that I am now unable to drive. Suddenly I stop and put down my shopping. I recall the magic I encountered that evening.

I remember.

I remember that I am still able to see the laughter in my Mother’s eyes, a child’s first steps, my beautiful niece in her matric dance dress, a sky clustered full of stars, a field teeming with daffodils. I am able to see the unearthly beauty of something like rainbows.

I can see rainbows.

I pick up my bags and continue on my way with a smile in my heart.

I can see rainbows!