The Double Life of “Fireflies”: From Closing Time Signal to Magical Night in Hokkaido

A shrine gate in the forest at night with many fireflies
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The Japanese exit signal: Why “Auld Lang Syne” makes guests flee

Have you ever wondered how to politely get your overstaying guests to leave? I know a 100% sure-fire way—though I think it only works on Japanese guests.

It’s easy: just play the Scottish folk song “Auld Lang Syne.” An arranged version of the song was featured in the 1940 Hollywood hit, Waterloo Bridge. For reasons no one can quite explain, ever since then, the tune has been used in Japan to signal the closing time of shops, restaurants, and basically everything.

This “Rule of Going Home” is deeply imprinted in the Japanese subconscious. For instance, there’s a famous story of the song accidentally being played in an international airport in Canada, causing half-asleep Japanese travelers to suddenly wake up and prepare to leave. Many Japanese companies even play it at the end of business hours to urge employees to go home earlier. Most of us, myself included, are like Pavlov’s dogsit’s a truly embarrassing fact that we didn’t even realize how unusual this was until someone non-Japanese told us so.

From farewell song to actual light: The Japanese fascination with fireflies

Funnily enough, the Japanese title of the song is completely different. It’s called “Hotaru no Hikari” (The Light of Fireflies). And that is today’s theme, because July is the season of fireflies here in Hokkaido.

Japanese people have long been uniquely familiar with insects. As I’ve written before, only Japanese and Polynesian people are thought to perceive the sound of insects as a form of language processed in the left hemisphere. Seasonal traditions like insect singing competitions have been popular since around the seventh century. Among all insects, fireflies are one of the most popular—not for their voice, of course, but for their light.

Japanese fireflies, unlike many species outside Japan, are aquatic insects requiring clean water to grow. Our hometown, Asahikawa, is famously a city of rivers, with about 150 rivers running through it. Fireflies were once commonly seen everywhere.

A rice paddy field of which water surface reflects the sky with some clouds.

The unforgettable light: Fireflies and exhausted soldiers

Shortly after graduating from university, I served in the Japan Air Self-Defense Force (JSDF). The weapon control in the JSDF is unusually strict; if even one empty bullet shell is missing, trainee soldiers must search until it is found.

Disaster struck on the second day of our final training exercise. Along a river deep in the forest, the thing we dreaded most happened: an empty shell was missing. Exhausted and speechless, we started crawling on the ground. As hours passed in vain and it grew completely dark, someone whispered, “Fireflies.” I looked up. So many fireflies surrounded us, illuminating the dark forest. It remains one of the most profound memories of my early life: exhausted soldiers floating in the darkness, surrounded by their gentle, magical light.

There are many fireflies along a river.

The magic of a community-regenerated night: Asahikawa’s success story

Unfortunately, due to pesticide use and water pollution during the high economic growth period, fireflies drastically decreased in number and were rarely seen in the city for decades. But the tide is shifting.

About 30 years ago, eleven junior high school students started a project to cultivate and release fireflies. Numerous advocates and sponsors, mostly neighborhood residents, emerged and worked together to improve the surrounding environment. Now, thanks to this dedicated community effort, we can see fireflies again every summer in a huge park in the south of the city. I find the sheer determination of the human spirit to reclaim natural beauty truly moving.

I’ve noticed many tourists are rushing to Japan’s major cities like Tokyo and Osaka during the summer. To be honest, I believe this is not a great idea—mainland Japan is simply too hot and humid in summer. Why not come here to Hokkaido instead? Escape the heat and enjoy a fantastical atmosphere created by the light of fireflies on a nice, cool night.


A corporate logo, the letters of C and H are combined to look like a tree in a circle

Shungo Ijima

He is travelling around the world. His passion is to explain Japan to the world, from the unique viewpoint accumulated through his career: overseas posting, MBA holder, former official of the Ministry of Finance.


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