Rainbow City

Why are there so many songs about rainbows
And what’s on the other side?
Rainbows are visions, but only illusions
And rainbows have nothing to hide

So we’ve been told, and some choose to believe it
I know they’re wrong, wait and see
Someday we’ll find it, the rainbow connection
The lovers, the dreamers, and me

Rainbow Connection. The Muppets

Sydney is painted in rainbows.

Host to the 2023 World Pride, the city is being transformed into a Rainbow City and the famous colours can be seen everywhere. The Sydney Opera House lit up with the Progress Pride Flag. A Rainbow Sculpture at Manly Beach, the Queen Nyani Gorilla at the Taronga Zoo draped in a giant rainbow cape flowing down his back. Streets and public places painted with the iconic symbol of hope and love.

2023 is a massive year for the Australian queer community and its allies. Marks year the 50th anniversary of Gay Pride Week in Australia, as well as the 45th anniversary of the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras. It is the reason why all through the city, 45 free public artworks celebrating Pride can be found. And it’s an important year for Sydney, as it is the first city in the Southern Hemisphere tohost the event. So after two years of pandemicsand restrictions,thecity is ready to celebrate love!

Even in our small Newport in the Northern Beaches, the rainbow flag can be spotted: on storefronts, supermarket displays, and public buses… everyone is getting on the bandwagon, or should I say the parade float. Some for more honest reasons than others. Even the rain and the sun are playing along, forming a multicoloured arc in the sky. No matter where, how, or why. A rainbow stands for hope and love, and what can be better than that?

A big week for the city, a busy week for me. Parent meetings, class excursions, doctor’s appointments (I get to that later), pedicure sessions… By the time Saturday morning finally comes around, I am glad to be sitting at my favourite spot at Newport Beach, watching the sunrise and reflecting on the past week. Or weeks, I should say.

I have not written anything in a while (not sure anyone noticed, but I certainly did). Part inertia, part feeling uninspired and a bit frustrated with my writing. I was waiting for that rainbow to appear to inspire me.

And it did – that early Saturday morning, sitting in the slightly damp sand at the beach in the semi-dark, watching the sunrise before the sun rises – it came to me.

I watched the black night sky above the ocean, speckled only by a few tiny stars, slowly turn into a deep violet colour. Violet turned into indigo, and indigo turned into blue. Long before the sun even made an appearance, the colours of the rainbow were dancing in the sky in front of me. Yellow was next, orange, and finally – when the sun appeared above the ocean line, stretching its rays out to light up another beautiful day – a deep dark red.

And so I started to think about the different colours of the rainbow in my everyday life here in Downunder. Started to look at the past few weeks through my own personal kaleidoscope.

VIOLET. The violet of the gorgeous morning sky in front of my eyes. Deep and dark and rich. The violet of the Tibouchina flowers growing in the front of my granny flat, announcing the arrival of fall. Violet, the colour of the Sydney Olympic Stadium, where Ed Sheeran performed in front of 85,000 fans.

INDIGO. A bit of a sad story this week. Next to the gigantic wooden Mary statue I inherited from my mother, a beautiful engagement ring is the only thing that I have left to remember my mother by. I have worn the ring since her death 13 years ago. A simple golden band, with a deep indigo blue Lapis Lazuli stone in the middle of it, is one of the few pieces of jewellery I always wear.

Until I lost it last week in a pub. Not the whole ring, but the blue stone in the middle. The ring was still on my finger, the empty frame silently reminding me of what I had lost. Now and then. Part of me was devastated, as it felt like I had not looked after my mother’s memory well enough. The other part was wondering if this was a sign to let go of the past and to move on. If the ring had done its job?

In the end, the sentimental part won, and I brought the empty ring to a jeweller to have the stone replaced with a new one.

“Is it worth it?” I asked, wondering how much this would cost.

“It’s sentimental”, he said, “so it’s always worth it!”

Maybe he was just a good sales person, but I agreed and left the ring sand rock in his professional hands.

BLUE. I have never seen anything so blue as the sunny sky down here in Australia. We had a few heavy downpours in the last couple of weeks, with wet carpets in the classroom and little rivers running in front of my classroom door. When it rains in Sydney, it pours!

The moment the clouds start breaking up, shifting apart, and revealing the azure blue sky behind it, however, never fails to make me smile. The sky in Australia does look bluer than in the rest of the world, and I even googled why that is. The high density of Eucalyptus trees? The clean air? The reflection of the ocean (or was it the other way around?)? Many reasons can be found on the internet. I think it’s that rainbow magic doing its trick again.

GREEN. Watching the sunrise, I thought to myself: Green will be hard. There’s no green in a sunrise. But as I reflected on the past days and weeks, I realized there had been quite a few “green” moments in the last little while: the greenery surrounding me while I am writing this article.

The new green Swiffer that does a magical job at cleaning the wooden floors in my granny flat.

The shirt of the man sitting next to us at the Surf Club (who may have been insulted or confused – or both – when I asked him if he could turn around, so I could take a photo of his back).

The green Hot Mama Pickle in a Pouch found at Newport’s newest store, the American Candy Store (just what Newport needed)!

There was hope!

YELLOW. The song by Coldplay comes to mind.

“Look at the stars, look how they shine for you. And everything you do.”

The stars and the moon and yellow school hats bopping through the zoo. Each one shining its own little light and brightening up my days and nights.

ORANGE.

Knock. Knock.

Who’s there?

Orange.

Orange who?

Orange you glad I said orange?

Old joke. A new colour is on the horizon. The sun is slowly working its way up the sky, suppressed by the dense cloud cover in the morning sky.

On the weekend, I try to go for a long run around the lagoon. I have a half-marathon coming up in six weeks and for some reason, my times are not improving. Could be the lack of training. Or the fact that I stop every five minutes to take a picture of the sun painting the night sky a deep, rich orange. The other day, I received a notification from Google photos that my storage was almost full. I am sure that half of these photos are pictures of sunrises. Say what you want, Google! I keep taking pictures of the morning sky burning bright with a fiery light.