When I saw Terry Tempest Williams live at the Unbound Book Festival in Columbia, Missouri I knew I had to pick up a copy of her new book, The Glorians: Visitations from the Holy Ordinary (Grove Press, 2026), and so I did. Tucked among her sightings was a “Black Rainbow” and I guessed that if there were not a pot of gold at its base I would find something equally important. i was not wrong.
She saw it across the valley from where she lives in Utah and the day was July 17, 2020, the day the civil rights legend John Lewis died. Before reading page 55 in her book i didn’t know the slightest thing about black rainbows. The black rainbow is called “Alexander’s Band” and it is the ocular illusion of a black space between a double rainbow. An interesting play of light combines with the angle of sight line in a particular moment and the sky appears dark between the two bows.
We all bring our best meaning-making to such phenomena and hers did not disappoint. She described it as “a black, thick arch framed by two rainbows, above and below.” But then the interpretation: “I see it as a bridge to walk across in difficult times. A pathway through pain where our tears obscure the light that is trying to reach us.” Which one of us hasn’t experienced that kind of a bridge? Especially the way that perception changes when “you change the angle of sight and change the angle of light.”
She is not the first person who has found just what she was looking for in physical phenomena in front of the eyes. And some of those natural images are so very suggestive and complementary to the patterns bouncing around inside the halls of our consciousness. Imagine, a layer of darkness positioned in-between the two parallel spectra of rainbows. What an astounding description of the shadow between any sources of light, knowledge, symbols, archetypes, or realities.
Perceiving a dusky layer between enchanting double rainbows only makes them more so, casting them into greater relief, making them more of what they are.
I used to think that double rainbows were magical, and to a great extent I still do. But what fills me with wonder now is the chthonic, hidden, negative space within and without that brings clarity to everything that is seen. Like the Genesis creative spirit brooding over the dark face of the waters. It may not be cheery. But a little salve made of that liminal goo can heal more than any rainbow ever thought it could.
Featured image: “Alexander’s band” by Willirememberme, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons.
Fascinating take on perception and interpretation of that perception.
“But a little salve made of that liminal goo can heal more than any rainbow ever thought it could.” LOVE.
Very interesting and thought provoking. I never thought about the space between double rainbows before!
First of all, Chthonic is my new favorite word! Second, this reminds me of how I recently learned that a peacock feather is not actually blue – it’s not a blue pigment. But the light reflecting off of it appears blue to us. I think it’s actually a dull brown in color? Another great example of that slight change in angle or perception and you have an entirely different experience!