
Also available on:
Episode Description
Out of the dozen or so species of fireflies in the world that can synchronize, there is one that makes it's home in Congaree National Park. Discover how Photinus Frontalis can adjust it's internal clock to match other firefly signals and eventually all blink in unison. Next we discuss chimera clusters and how this firefly performs this rare dance in nature. Last, we examine the mystery of why these fireflies blink all at once. Is it to find a mate? Is it just for fun? No one knows!
Thank you to Laura Erickson's For the Birds for generously sharing her audio recording for our park sound! See more of her work at https://www.lauraerickson.com/.
Resources & Links
Never Miss an Episode
Get notified when we release new episodes
Join our community of nature lovers and curious kids!
Episode Transcript
National Park Scouts
Blink in Time: The Synchronous Fireflies of Congaree
Host: Jenni · Topic: Synchronous fireflies, chimera clusters, Chuck-will's-widow, Congaree National Park
INTRO
Have you ever hidden in the dark? I'm talking dark dark. Not city dark, swamp dark. The kind of dark where you can't see your hand in front of your face. Somewhere out here in Congaree National Park, hundreds of tiny lights are blinking against all that black. And a scientist is crouched down in the mud, holding up one single blinking light of her own. Not a real firefly, a fake one. Just a tiny LED. She starts flashing it right into the swarm. And guess what happens? It works. A real wild firefly, flying free and doing its own thing, locks onto that fake light's rhythm and starts blinking back. In time. Like it's having a conversation with a robot and has no idea. A bug with a brain smaller than a grain of rice just got talked into matching a fake light built by a human. Scientists really do this right here in this park.
Wait, wait, wait. Haven't we talked about fireflies before? Why, yes we have. Look back at episode six in the Great Smoky Mountains. We talk firefly science and all about the discovery of the synchronous fireflies. If you're joining us today and haven't listened to that, here are a few facts. Fireflies aren't actually flies at all. They're beetles. And that glow comes from a real chemical reaction happening inside their own bodies. Cool, huh? Since we've covered that one before, today we're skipping straight to the good stuff. But you can go back and listen, because that episode on the Smokies is a fun one too.
Today we're heading into one of the strangest light shows on the planet, happening in the swamps of Congaree, South Carolina, where thousands of fireflies flash together in something close to perfect unison. And here's the part I love. Not a single scientist on Earth fully knows why. Let's go.
Welcome to National Park Scouts, the show where curious kids discover America's wildest places. I'm Jenni. We are back at Congaree National Park in South Carolina. In our first episode here, we found out how this forest actually needs to flood; how the river spreads nutrients through the trees on purpose. Last time, we met Congaree's champion trees. Today, we're staying in that same forest, but we're coming back after dark. Because for about two weeks every year, flow along the ground, where the tall trees meet the swamp, something happens here that scientists still can't fully explain. Thousands of fireflies flashing together, almost like they're one single creature instead of thousands of separate bugs. Let's go meet them.
Meet the contenders
FIREFLY SHOWDOWN
Okay, scouts. To introduce our synchronous firefly of Congaree, we are going to pretend it's a super firefly showdown. So let's meet our contenders.
Number one: in the swamp, low along the bluffs of Congaree, there's a firefly called Photuris frontalis. We're gonna call it the Metronome. Hear that? No break, no pause, just steady, on beat, all night long. Like it's got an actual metronome ticking inside of it.
Now, let's meet contender number two. Way up high in the Great Smoky Mountains, a different type of firefly: Photinus carolinus. Let's call it the Burst Bomb. Several flashes, then nothing. Totally dark for several seconds. Then it does it again.
Same idea, bugs flashing together on purpose, but two totally different styles. One is steady and nonstop. One's explosive and then it vanishes. Scientists have spent years out here, at night, in the mud, just trying to figure out exactly how these species do it. So which one's cooler? The Metronome or the Burst Bomb? Keep your pick in mind. We're coming back to this fight later!
GUESS THAT PARK SOUND
Okay, scouts, it's time for Guess That Park Sound. Let's listen in.
[Audio clip plays]
What do you think that is? It kind of sounds like it's saying something. Hold on to your guess and we'll come back to it right after the break.
You can find more of her work at LauraErickson.com.
That was a Chuck-will's-widow. It's a nighttime bird that lives right here in Congaree's swampy forest. And get this: its call is basically saying its own name. Chuck-will's-widow. Chuck-will's-widow. Try saying it fast a few times. It's a tongue twister.
They're almost impossible to spot in the daytime. They lie flat on a branch or the ground, and their feathers are patterned exactly like dead leaves, so they practically vanish. While the fireflies below are putting on their light show, the Chuck-will's-widow is up in the branches, calling into the dark, totally unbothered by the show happening under the trees. Two completely different nighttime lives happening in the exact same patch of forest at the exact same time.
How fireflies keep the beat
Speaking of things happening at the exact same time, let's get back to our fireflies. Because we're about to find out exactly how a bug does something that's actually really, really hard.
CLAP ALONG
Okay, scouts, before we go any further, I want you to try something with me right now, wherever you're listening. Get your hands ready to clap. Here's the rule: when I say go, everybody just starts clapping at whatever speed feels natural to you. No counting out loud, no watching anyone else's hands, just clap. Are you ready?
Okay, go. [clapping] Okay, stop.
I'm guessing that got messy fast, right? Some of you were maybe clapping fast, some of you might have been clapping slow, and probably no one landed exactly on the same beat as anyone else. So here's the thing. Matching your clap to someone else's without talking about it, without counting together out loud, is actually a hard thing to do, even for humans, even with our giant brains. So how does a firefly, a bug with a brain smaller than a grain of rice, do this perfectly with thousands of its neighbors every single night without arguing about the beat?
Okay, this next part is one of the coolest things scientists have ever figured out about fireflies, and it's totally something you can understand. Here is how it starts. Every firefly has its own internal clock, ticking away, telling it exactly when to flash next. However, that clock isn't stubborn. Every single time a firefly sees a flash from a neighbor nearby, it does something clever. It nudges its own internal clock, just a tiny bit, enough to land a little closer to that neighbor's beat.
One single nudge doesn't do much on its own. But do that over and over, thousands of times a night, with thousands of fireflies all nudging their clocks toward each other at the same time, and something amazing happens. The whole swamp locks onto one shared rhythm. No lead firefly. No one counting "and a one and a two." Just thousands of tiny clocks quietly correcting themselves again and again until they land on the same beat.
Scientists have actually measured this right here at Congaree, using real wild fireflies and tiny blinking lights, kind of like the trick from the very beginning of this episode. They've mapped out almost exactly how a firefly nudges its clock, and when. So that part, the how it works, is well solved.
Two choirs in the swamp
And here's something even stranger that this exact species will do. Sometimes, instead of the whole swarm blinking on one beat, it splits into two groups: one flashing together and another flashing just half a beat off. Like two choirs singing the same song, slightly out of step, on purpose. Scientists call it a chimera cluster, and it's so rare that outside of Congaree, something like this has only ever been spotted in a handful of places in all of nature. Nobody expected a bug to pull off something that strange.
The mystery: why?
Scientists still don't fully know why. Why bother synchronizing at all? For some firefly species, the best guess is that it helps females spot the right pattern in a crowd. Kind of like how it's easier to hear one voice clearly if everyone in the room says the same word at the same time, instead of everyone talking all at once. But the female fireflies of this exact species are incredibly good at staying hidden, so scientists haven't been able to study them enough yet to know for sure if that's the reason here, too.
So the how, that's pretty much solved. But the why, that's still wide open. And real scientists are working on that mystery right now, tonight, in this exact forest.
WILDCARD
Wildcard: Metronome vs. Burst Bomb
Alright, scouts, it's time for the wildcard. Remember our showdown? Metronome versus Burst Bomb? Let's settle it with some true or false.
True or false: the Congaree Metronome firefly pauses for several seconds between flashes, just like the Smokies firefly.
False. That's actually backwards. The Metronome doesn't pause at all. It's the Smokies firefly that does the burst-and-go-dark pattern. The Congaree firefly just keeps ticking, steady, no breaks.
True or false: scientists have found fireflies that blink slightly out of step with their neighbors, almost like two choirs singing the same song just half a beat apart.
True. It's called a chimera cluster, and scientists have only ever documented something like it in a couple of places in all of nature. Congaree is one of them.
So, do you like the Metronome or the Burst Bomb better? Either way, you are rooting for a firefly that scientists are still trying to fully understand.
SCOUT QUESTION OF THE DAY
THE QUESTION
Now it's your turn, scouts. Remember the scientist from the beginning of the episode using a fake blinking light to talk to real fireflies? If you could build a fake signal to communicate with any animal (a light, a sound, a smell, anything), which animal would you want to talk to? And what would your signal say?
FROM ELLIE, AGE 9
Hi, I'm Ellie and I'm nine years old. I would like to be able to communicate with a fox because I think they are cute. My signal would be the snap of my fingers. And this signal would mean "I'm a friend. Can I pet you?"
Do you want to be on this podcast? We can get you on here. Visit NationalParkScouts.com/contact or reach out to me on social media. I read every single message and I love to hear from you. Let's get you on our next podcast adventure.
The takeaway
What did you learn today that most adults don't know? I learned that scientists have actually figured out exactly how fireflies manage to flash together in one giant rhythm. It's this constant, tiny back-and-forth nudging of their internal clocks toward their neighbors. But nobody, not a single scientist on Earth, has fully figured out why they bothered doing it in the first place. That mystery is still wide open, right now, tonight, in the swamps of Congaree.
SCOUT MISSION
YOUR MISSION
Every scout needs a mission. Here's yours. If you're at home, play the clapping game again, but this time as a family, and try it in a totally dark room, maybe even with flashlights instead of claps. See how long it takes everyone to land on the same blinking pattern.
If you're visiting Congaree, and if you're lucky enough to score a firefly viewing pass, here's an insider secret: bring a flashlight with a red cover or a red setting, and only point it at the ground. Fireflies don't notice red light the same way they notice white, so you'll actually see more of the show. And once the fireflies start flashing, just watch. The real trick is letting your eyes adjust and letting the swamp do the rest. And honestly, I think that's the best kind of mystery.
OUTRO
Next time, we're heading back into the same forest for something a whole lot smaller and a whole lot fuzzier. Scouts, your next adventure is waiting.