Leprechauns and Rainbows

I was driving with my son, Chris, on one of those crisp days when the weather couldn’t decide what it wanted to do. We would drive in sunshine for a while then it would cloud and rain. Once in a while we’d see some snow flakes and the process would start all over again. When the sun came out there would be rainbows all around us – many were cloud to ground, more than a few were ground to ground. It was a gorgeous day.

I thought I’d take the opportunity to teach Chris a little of his Irish heritage. I am not Irish. My wife, Pat, is. Her grandparents immigrated. The closest I come is having ancestors who stopped off in the Ulster section for a while on their way from Scotland to the American colonies. I’m a bit far off the boat for true lore but Celtic enough to dabble. Pat grew up listening to her grandfather’s stories of leprechauns and fairies and mermaids and we’ve been married long enough that some of it has rubbed off. I’ve also been known to enhance a story. As long as you can throw in enough facts a story can sound real. Sometimes.

“Chris,” I said as we watched rainbows in the distance, “do you remember that thing about there being a pot of Leprechaun’s gold at the end of a rainbow? It’s true, you know.”

Chris looked at me.

“The problem most people have had with it is that they don’t have a true bearing on where the rainbow touches the ground. And if they can keep the bearing right while they’re wandering around trees and over fences and up and down hills then they don’t have a clue as to how far away the end of the rain bow is.”

Chris glanced at me and back at the rainbows with some interest but more than a little skepticism.

“What you need on a day like this,” I continued, “ is several teams so you can triangulate the position. Leprechauns don’t leave the gold out for very long so you’d need to move fast to the right spot to have a chance to get it.”

Chris turned from the rainbows to me and said, “That’s not true.”

“It is, too,” I said, feigning as much indignation as I could. “When the rainbows go from cloud to ground the leprechauns are making a withdrawal. And when you see the ones that are ground to ground do you know what that is?”

“No,” he said.

“They’re changing banks.”

Chris looked at the rainbows for a few moments then turned back to me. “You know,” he said, “sometimes you’re really hard to talk to.”

I suppose sometimes I am.