Night’s Hidden Science: What Night Magic Reveals About the Dark
— Panellus stipticus glowing in the dark forest
A World That Comes Alive After Sunset
Most of us rarely give much thought to what happens once the sun sets. But for biologist and writer Carol Grant Gould, the night holds its own intricate world — one that many of us have simply forgotten to look for. In Night Magic: Adventures Among Glowworms, Moon Gardens, and Other Marvels of the Dark, she invites readers to rediscover the science that plays out in darkness every single night.
At the center of her exploration is bioluminescence, nature’s way of creating light without heat. From glowworms dangling their sticky silk threads inside caves to fireflies signaling potential mates in synchronized bursts, Gould brings these living lights to life on the page. Some fungi even emit faint green glows from decaying logs, quietly illuminating the forest floor.
But glowing creatures are only part of the story. Many plants, too, have evolved to thrive under moonlight. So-called “moon gardens,” filled with pale blooms and fragrant night-blooming flowers, attract nocturnal pollinators such as moths and bats. And across the animal kingdom, night is far busier than most people realize: more than two-thirds of mammal species are nocturnal, and countless insects, amphibians, and birds depend on the cover of darkness for survival.
Up Close with Night’s Creatures
Gould’s research is not limited to the lab. She ventures out into forests, caves, and fields to experience night ecology firsthand. In Tennessee, she stands under trees where thousands of fireflies flash in perfect unison, creating waves of light that ripple through the air. Deeper underground in Alabama’s caves, bats swarm and hunt using echolocation, navigating in complete darkness.
In North Carolina’s damp woods, she observes foxfire — the soft green glow of bioluminescent fungi — flickering from rotting wood. On rainy spring nights, she follows salamanders as they emerge in large numbers to breed, a mass migration that occurs entirely out of sight during the day. Even in her own backyard, owls hoot quietly from hidden branches while moths gather under porch lights.
Through these nighttime excursions, Gould gradually adapts to the darkness, allowing her eyes — and her awareness — to adjust to details most people never notice.
The Threat of Losing the Night
But the book is not just a celebration of night’s beauty. It carries a clear warning: artificial light is steadily erasing the natural rhythms that both wildlife and humans depend on. According to Dark Sky International, nearly all Americans now live under some degree of light pollution. This steady glow confuses migrating birds, interrupts firefly mating patterns, and disrupts predator-prey relationships that evolved over millions of years.
Owls abandon lit areas. Insects vanish under constant illumination. Even humans, Gould suggests, lose something essential when we no longer experience true darkness. Natural darkness, she argues, is as vital as daylight for both ecological balance and human health.
In Night Magic, Gould doesn’t simply ask us to turn off the lights — she asks us to pay attention to what’s already here, waiting in the shadows. “Light creates life,” she writes, “but darkness gives it shape.”
