demba

The rain comes down again all at once and out of gray clouds hanging above the extravagantly sunlit green hillside like an unconvincing special effect (bad bluescreen or misused filters) or like perfectly everyday weather in Iceland. Three modest brown birds hop in and out of the puddles forming on the concrete below. Two rainbows arc up from behind the nearest house (but in front of the tree beyond) into the gray air.

I reckon as these are good omens.