Chapter 14 - The Seven-colored Rainbows Of Lake Sammamish

One day, after the rain and when the sun first reappeared, two seven-colored rainbows rose unexpectedly from the middle of the veiled lake. Indeed, two magnificent rainbows rose from the lake and ascended to the sky, curving towards the east, and forming an arched doorway.

Ah! What a wonder! These magnificent seven-colored rainbows, with their vibrant and beautiful colors, are like a water-color painting. What a wonderful painter Nature is!

These seven-colored rainbows, aren't they like the dreams of my youth-the dreams of being in the scenic southern part of China? I imagined I was there in a mid-summer night, full of fireflies. The fireflies' green lights were dancing all over the sky as in elegant choreography. I lay on a straw mat in the yard enjoying the bright moon. The dance of the fireflies and the glow of the bright moon were the seven-colored rainbows, traversing tiers and tiers of clouds over the sky, to an unfathomable end.....

The seven-colored rainbows, rising from Lake Sammamish and appearing before me for the first time, seemed to be asking me with concern: Don't you have fantasies any more? Where are your bright expectations? Have you become indifferent and apathetic to everything? Have you no more outflow of passion? The seven-colored rainbows, rising up from the bottom of the lake, asked me those questions. In response, I was wordless and silent.

I gazed at the seven-colored rainbows. They rose from the center of the lake, arching out, as big colorful banners waving in the mist. Yet in my heart, there remained only vague memories of the forgotten years, like a heap of dead ashes or ribbons of smoke. Before my eyes, they flowed away from me, just like the running water in a small brook, and vanished.

Some people say that seven-colored rainbows are water vapor; some say that they are spiritual energy; others, that they are a reflection of sunlight. Surely they are not the shimmering sea of stars, nor of gentle liquid, nor mixed fruit juices. Are they hot or cold, light or shadow? I can only answer with my roaming eyes.

Someone suggested that we take a boat to the center of the lake, to feel the skin of the seven-colored rainbows and to soak ourselves in their spectrum of colors. I declined. I no longer desired the embrace of passions. Only a detached appreciation of beauty remained.

I am aware that the seven-colored rainbows have their special appeal and meaning. Their ethereal beauty, their special grace and seductive eyes are full of feminine tenderness, so sensual and irresistible. Yet, all these have turned into a winter cicada for me, quieted by the severe cold. They vanished just like flower petals being cut into small pieces and blown away.

No more indulging in sentiments, seven-colored rainbows of Lake Sammamish.

No more falling in love, seven-colored rainbows of Lake Sammamish.

I admit I learn something new everytime I lay my eyes on Lake Sammamish. Take the seven-colored rainbows as an example: seeing the rainbows rising from the center of the lake called forth beauty in my mind-I enjoyed watching the reflections and refractions of the evening sun under the veiled lake; I enjoyed seeing those rolling green hills.....

After gazing upon the seven-colored rainbows for a long time, I realized that they were not just of seven colors, but actually a myriad of different-colored tones in various shapes. These huge colorful banners reminded me of many things from my youth. I thought of past starry nights. I thought of the moment I was under the eucalyptus trees. I thought of seeing the sea of clouds at Mount Ali¹, the neon lights of the city at night, the rocks and water under the Valley Gate Rivers², and the endless expanse of meadows full of flowers.....

When I was young, I regarded everything as reality; everything was beautiful and wondrous, and full of dreams.

But now, I need to understand the truth about appearances, the visible. Absolute Reality is the opposite of what is visible. Appearances are meaningless, just illusory scenes perceived with the eyes.

My consciousness is that of an innocent child. Beautiful as these paintings are, I am content to merely look at them. I do not wish to possess them. I strive for simplicity and avoid complexity. I am innocent, but not shallow; awakened, but not lost.

Every second, every minute, every hour, every day, time shoots by like an arrow. Days become nights and nights become days. New lives are created while others pass away. Being in between, I feel everything, yet I see through them all.

The seven-colored rainbows of Lake Sammamish are indeed beautiful.

The rising of the seven-colored rainbows from the surface of the lake brings one joy.

These seven-colored rainbows of Mother Nature are incredible.

I am aware of and appreciate their lights and shadows, their joy, their splendor and their hopes, but I am not attracted to them, because I know they are not Absolute Reality. I no longer dwell on the visible. I became indifferent to them as I learned the Truth.

The seven-colored rainbows have taught me something new.

I will not be misled by false appearances.

Indeed, sometime later, the seven-colored rainbows gradually vanished as the mists evaporated, as an illusion that soon disappeared. Let bygones be bygones!

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