I’m not a huge fan of the dark. Sure, I love wandering around my yard at night, especially as the weather warms and the cicadas start to emerge, shirking off their hard shells and transforming before my eyes. I love wandering down the street, looking for golden-crowned snakes and the possums clambering over garbage bins. There’s something safe and satisfying about the familiar. But in the bush? At night? Where who knows what lurks and wearing pyjamas is frowned upon? Not on your life.

But what if I told you that there was something so mesmerising and so magical unfolding right now that even I braved the dark?

On the weekend we made a very last-minute decision to head down to Cascade Falls at Macquarie Pass National Park. I hadn’t been during the day and wanted to get my bearings before sunset. We arrived just before 7pm, quickly finding the entrance to the Cascade Rainforest Walk just to the rear of the picnic area.

I took a deep breath, standing in the fading light, peering nervously into the quickly darkening forest. We had only taken a handful of steps when we were surprised by two lyrebirds, dashing out from the dark.

The path itself is fairly wide, and covered with a carpet of fallen leaves. Before we even made it to the very pretty falls we had spooked a swamp wallaby that bounded noisily away through the bracken, trekked through rainforest so lush I felt as though we were in North Queensland and heard the unnerving cry of several green catbirds. It was very clear that this was going to be no ordinary wander.

The sun set at around 7:45pm. As you move deeper into the forest, huge gnarled vines fall from the canopy while tree roots bulge up and over the path; you’ll need to watch your step. And then you wait. You wait for the magic to happen. 

At exactly 8:10pm I spotted the first one, a surprisingly bright flashing light a couple of metres along the path behind me. It blinked on and off several times before taking silent flight, the light seemingly floating in the air: my first ever firefly!

We actually have 25 species of fireflies in Australia but if you want to see them, you have to be ready to head out soon. It’s currently mating season and it generally runs from the last two weeks in November through to about the middle of December. It’s the males that blink and after excitedly calling over my husband, that one blinking light turned to two, to three and then suddenly we were surrounded as more insects emerged from the shrubbery and seemed to float down and around us. Even more special, they kept landing on me, their flashing bums lighting up my hair and shirt.

And if that wasn’t enough, once the fireflies stop flashing (they’re visible for about an hour), keep your torches off and let your eyes adjust. Along the waterfall and some parts of the creek, glowworms glimmer with a diffuse blue light. Glow worms are only found in Australia and New Zealand so their presence feels really special.

By the time we left, we had been joined by plenty of other enthusiasts, excitedly exchanging pleasantries and tips on what to look out for. It was one of the most breathtaking experiences I've ever had. You could say I was 'glowing'. 

You can see fireflies from around 8-9pm over the four-week breeding period. Stick to the paths, use a red-light torch for moving around, take only photos and leave only footprints.

If you’re interested in all things glowing, follow local legend David Finlay. You can read our profile on him here