One night and one morning

One night in September there was a fire on the mountainside in Centerville, just about five miles north of here. If I was worried, I didn't have much cause compared to the people who lived just blocks from the blaze. But they spoke calmly with me about the times there had been fire in the past, about fire break road that kept the fires from their homes, about their call to prepare for evacuation, about where they'd put their sprinklers if they did have to evacute, about the people fighting the fires, about their confidence that everything would be all right.
Sure enough, everything was all right. And the next morning, from my home, there was a rainbow.