09/06/2026
Double my Pleasure and Add Some More
There is something in this photograph that Isaac Newton could not explain.
Not the double rainbow. Newton had that one solved. Sunlight enters a raindrop, bends, bounces off the back, bends again on the way out, and comes back to you at a fixed angle. Do the geometry and you get one bright bow, and a second fainter one from light that bounced twice. Case closed, textbook shut.
Now look at the second picture, or zoom into the left side of the first one, just inside the bright arc.
See those extra bands? Pale green, then pink, then green again, stacked underneath the main bow like an echo.
Those should not be there.
Newton treated light as tiny particles traveling in straight lines, and that model gives you exactly one primary bow. Not one bow with a set of fringes stacked inside it. For over a century those extra bands sat in the sky as a quiet embarrassment, and they even had a name that admitted defeat. Supernumerary. Latin for beyond the number. More arcs than the theory allowed.
In 1803 a physician named Thomas Young worked out what was happening, and the answer changed physics.
Light is not a particle marching in a straight line. Light is a wave. Two waves that travel very slightly different paths through the same raindrop come back out slightly out of step with each other, and where the peaks line up you get a bright band and where a peak meets a trough they cancel into darkness. Those pale green and pink fringes are that cancellation and reinforcement, painted across the sky.
Supernumerary bows were among the strongest evidence anybody had that light behaves as a wave. Not from a laboratory. From rainbows.
One more thing, and it is my favorite part.
You almost never see these, and there is a reason. The effect only survives when the raindrops are small and very close to the same size as each other. A normal rain shower contains a whole range of drop sizes, every drop puts its fringes in a slightly different place, and they blur each other into nothing. For these bands to show up this cleanly, the rain falling out of that cloud had to be unusually uniform.
Which means this photograph is not just pretty. It is a measurement. You are looking at evidence about the size of raindrops in a shower that ended an hour ago over a strawberry field.
Plant City, Florida, this afternoon, facing east over plastic mulch and a parked semi truck. The sun was still 32 degrees up behind me, which is why the arch sits low and stretches wide instead of standing tall.
Go look at the fringes again. Somebody spent a career arguing about those.
π Plant City, Florida