I bet the woman in the red hat (no knickers) who stopped pushing her child to take a photo of it is probably saying the same thing to her followers today. She tried to point it out to some passing schoolgirls just before this pic was taken, but the girls just walked on by, and she gave me a shruggy look which just said, 'Kids of today, eh?'
It was a pretty spectacular one, though. It was the first time I can recall seeing high clouds actually passed in front of a rainbow, which gave it an almost astronomical, gigantic scale which would have been remembered by Rutger Hauer in his last moments as an android, had he seen it before he kicked the proverbial bucket into kingdom come with his bionic leg, way back in the 80s.
There are certain upward but terrestrial things which are considered legitimate targets by modern astronomers - noctiluscent clouds, the 'green flash', etc. - but I don't think rainbows are one of them.
Artists consider rainbows as legitimate targets, but I have only ever come across two who have done them anything like the justice they deserve - Turner and Her Indoors. In the days before synthetic pigments permeated every aspect of our otherwise drab lives, rainbows and flowers were probably much more widely appreciated for their intoxicating beauty than they are today. These days, schoolgirls don't even bother to look up at them.
I suspect poets also overuse rainbows in their lexicon too, but all the work has already been done for them by us. All they have to do is say the word 'rainbow' and the monochrome lines of the 'painting by numbers' imagery that they have plonked down in front of us has instantaneously been filled in - by us. The lazy bastards.
Ok, you lazy poets - describe a rainbow to someone who has been blind since birth, in no less than 500 words. I want it on my desk by no later than tomorrow morning.