
Bioluminescent forest magic
- Gareth Jones
- Oct 13
- 3 min read

: Chasing Glow: Finding Bioluminescent Mushrooms in a Snowdonia Forest
There’s something undeniably magical about wandering through a Welsh forest at night — the hush of the trees, the scent of moss and rain, and the faint, hopeful feeling that maybe, just maybe, you’ll see something extraordinary. Last weekend, armed with my Sigma 24-70mm f/2.8 lens, a Benro tripod, and a slightly questionable amount of enthusiasm, I set out into the depths of Snowdonia to find one of nature’s strangest and most enchanting secrets: bioluminescent mushrooms.
A Glow in the Dark… or Just My Imagination?
Let me set the scene. It’s pitch black, and the forest is alive with the sound of dripping water and the occasional startled squirrel. I’ve got a UV torch in one hand and my camera gear in the other. I look like a lost member of Ghostbusters, but instead of ghosts, I’m hunting fungi that glow like fairy lights.
Most people go mushroom foraging for dinner. I go for the biochemistry.
Bioluminescent fungi — sometimes called “foxfire” — emit a faint, eerie green glow thanks to a chemical reaction involving luciferin (no relation to Lucifer, thankfully) and luciferase. It’s nature’s own glow stick, and finding them in the wild feels like stepping straight into a fantasy novel.
Gear Talk: Why It Matters
For a night like this, you need patience, luck, and solid gear. The Sigma 24-70mm f/2.8 is a dream in low light — that wide aperture is perfect for catching even the faintest flicker of mushroom magic. I paired it with my Benro tripod, which, let’s be honest, probably saved me from blur-induced heartbreak.
Long exposures are key when photographing glowing fungi. I set my ISO low (around 400–800), aperture wide open, and used a shutter speed of anywhere from 15 to 30 seconds. During that time, the forest stood utterly still, except for the occasional gnat that decided to photobomb.
The Moment It Happened
After about an hour of stumbling over roots and scaring myself with shadows, I finally spotted them — a cluster of delicate mushrooms glowing faintly under a fallen log. Under the UV light, they shimmered like tiny lanterns, each one a miniature world of wonder.
I crouched down, breath held, set up the tripod, and fired off a long exposure.
The result? Pure magic.
The frame captured that soft, alien green — the kind of light that doesn’t seem like it belongs to Earth.
I swear, for a moment, I half expected a fairy to pop out and ask what ISO I was using.
Lessons from the Forest
If you ever decide to go bioluminescent mushroom hunting, here are a few takeaways from my night in the woods:
Bring a UV torch — without it, you’re just a person wandering aimlessly in the dark (trust me, I tested this).
Use a sturdy tripod — the Benro’s stability is a game changer for long exposures.
Stay quiet — not for the mushrooms, but for your own sanity. Forests make some weird noises at night.
Check the weather — Welsh rain adds drama, but it also adds mud. Lots of mud.
Have fun with it — photography is as much about the story as the shot.
The Magic of the Welsh Woods
When I packed up and switched off the UV light, the forest slipped back into darkness — the kind so deep you feel it. Walking back to the car, I couldn’t help but grin. There’s something surreal about knowing that under all that bark and moss, the forest has its own secret nightlife, glowing quietly away while the rest of the world sleeps.
Snowdonia has always been magical — misty peaks, roaring waterfalls, endless shades of green — but seeing it glow from the forest floor? That was next level.
It wasn’t just photography. It was an adventure, a science lesson, and a fairy tale all rolled into one.
Final Thought:
If you ever find yourself in Snowdonia with a camera and a curiosity for the weird and wonderful, take a UV torch and go exploring. Just be warned — once you’ve seen the forest light up from the ground, normal walks in the woods will never feel quite the same again.



Comments