I only saw it because I happened to glance up at the right moment, and it was so startling that I briefly thought that a magpie had stolen a jewel and left it draped there. There was also a momentary flash of paranoia when I thought the light might be from the lens of a spy camera someone had trained on me, but it would have been a rather poor spy camera to reveal itself so obviously. The thought of a magpie abandoning a stolen ruby had considerably more charm, in any case, and given a choice between paranoia and charm I'll always choose the latter.
It was disappointing to see the light vanish so soon. As it was shrinking, I moved my head a bit and made it brighter again for a few seconds, but soon it disappeared and no shifting of my position could bring it back, or find another such jewel hanging from any branch of any tree in view. As I've never seen such a phenomenon before, despite all the rainstorms I've seen interrupted by moments of bright sunlight, I don't expect to ever see one again. It was one unique gift of a changeable, blustery afternoon which has now returned to being gray. I guess I'll have to content myself with the watery diamonds (which at certain moments can transform to sapphire blue) festooning the mulberry tree, though even those have dimmed as the clouds have concealed the sun again. There'll probably be no more rubies for me.