Great Smoky Mountains National Park lies nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains, between Tennessee and North Carolina. Its expansive forested hillsides seem to roll off into infinity, wound through with crystal clear rivers and streams.
Black bear and deer emerge from the dense, shady forests and disappear just as quickly.
But the reason we drove 15 hours to Tennessee was for a much smaller creature: the firefly. Great Smoky Mountains National Park is home to at least nineteen different varieties of firefly, and one particular species, known as the synchronous fireflies, put on a magical mating display for about two weeks every summer in June. Tickets to view the fireflies are given away in a randomly selected lottery (we did not win the lottery, but were able to get a media pass for the book) so that the numbers of people don’t overwhelm the trails and the fireflies. We gathered at sunset, claiming our spots before it became dark, even though the synchronous firefly show did not begin until well after dark. Everyone covered their flashlights, camera, and smartphone screens with red cellophane to protect against light pollution, which can disturb the insects. The isolated darkness in the park is one of the reasons the fireflies gather in such great numbers. The early evening fireflies began their display, glowing like fairies all around us. As it grew darker, different species began to light up. Some would flash quickly and brightly, illuminating a sphere of leaves. Others would glow a pale blue for several seconds, winding through the seated visitors. When the last bits of sun faded from the sky, the synchronous fireflies began. They would flicker by the hundreds, like dim, sparkling fireworks, first one, then more and more, like a wave through the trees. They glittered like fallen constellations in the forest. The only sounds were the buzzing of insects and the gasps of the audience.