It depicts the joy of snowfall from a child’s point of view.

The song is a cheerful depiction of snow falling in a rhythmic, incessant manner.
As the lyrics of the second verse suggest, the dog running happily around the yard can be compared to a child, and the cat curled up against the cold in a kotatsu, a table-type heater that has been loved in Japan for centuries, can be compared to an adult.

The official world record for the deepest snowfall, by the way, is about 12 meters, which was observed on February 14, 1927, at the weather station on Mount Ibuki (1377 meters above sea level) in Maibara, Shiga Prefecture, Japan. It is almost the same height as the Ootorii (second shrine gate) of Meiji Jingu Shrine.

By 江戸村のとくぞう (Edomura no Tokuzo) – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0,

Summer Memories — The Birth of a Musical Treasure in Post-War Japan

Picture Japan in 1949, just four years after World War II had ended. The country was rebuilding, and people were searching for ways to bring families together again. It was during this time that NHK, Japan’s national broadcasting corporation, launched an innovative program called “Radio Kayou” (Radio Songs). This wasn’t just another music program – it was born from a deep desire to heal and unite. Perhaps reflecting on how wartime propaganda songs like “Kokumin Kayou” had once stirred nationalistic fervor, NHK now wanted to create something entirely different: gentle melodies that families could gather around their radios to sing together in the comfort of their homes.

From this thoughtful initiative emerged “Natsu no Omoide” (Summer Memories), a song that would capture the hearts of generations of Japanese people. Today, this beautiful piece remains one of the most cherished examples of Douyo-Shouka – traditional Japanese songs that blend folk melodies with poetic lyrics. What makes this song so enduringly popular isn’t just its haunting melody, but its ability to paint vivid pictures of Japan’s pristine natural beauty through music and words.

A Lyrical Journey Through Japan’s Hidden Paradise

The song takes us on a poetic journey to Oze, a breathtaking highland marshland that feels like stepping into a fairy tale. This remarkable wetland ecosystem stretches majestically across three prefectures – Fukushima, Niigata, and Gunma – and holds the prestigious designation of being both a national park and one of Japan’s 100 most scenic spots. When you imagine Japan’s natural wonders, you might think of Mount Fuji or cherry blossoms, but Oze represents something equally magical yet more intimate.

The area is renowned for its incredibly strict environmental conservation policies, which have kept this wilderness virtually untouched for decades. Visitors must follow wooden boardwalks that wind through the marshland, ensuring that every footstep respects the delicate ecosystem. This careful preservation means that when you visit Oze today, you’re experiencing the same pristine beauty that inspired the song’s creation over 70 years ago. The commitment to protecting this natural sanctuary reflects the Japanese philosophy of living in harmony with nature – a theme that resonates deeply throughout the song.

Hatomachi Touge (Pass)　By Σ64 – Own work, CC BY 3.0, Link

The Story Behind the Words: A Wartime Memory Transformed

The woman who penned these evocative lyrics, EMA Shouko, has a fascinating story that adds layers of meaning to the song. In 1944, as World War II was reaching its devastating climax, she was evacuated to the Oze region for safety. Instead of dwelling on the hardships of wartime displacement, EMA found herself captivated by the area’s otherworldly beauty. Her lyrics were born not from a casual tourist visit, but from the deep, contemplative experience of someone who had time to truly observe and absorb the subtle rhythms of this highland paradise.

This personal connection explains why the song feels so authentic and emotionally resonant. EMA wasn’t just describing a pretty landscape – she was sharing a profound experience that had sustained her spirit during one of the darkest periods in modern Japanese history. The song became her love letter to a place that had offered solace and wonder when the world seemed broken. This backstory transforms “Natsu no Omoide” from a simple nature song into something much more profound: a testament to the healing power of natural beauty and the human capacity to find hope in the midst of despair.

Mt.Shibutsu and Ozegahara, Katashina Vill.,By Σ64 – Own work, CC BY 3.0, Link

The Beautiful Mystery of Seasonal Poetry

Here’s where the song becomes wonderfully intriguing: the star of “Natsu no Omoide” is the Mizubasho (Asian skunk cabbage), a plant whose large white petals create stunning displays across Oze’s wetlands. However, these magnificent flowers actually bloom from late May through June, right after the snow melts – not during the height of summer that the song’s title suggests. When curious fans pointed out this apparent contradiction to EMA Shouko, her response was both poetic and revealing: “I call the wonderful season of Mizubasho in Oze ‘summer’.”

This beautiful explanation opens up a window into the Japanese appreciation for seasonal subtlety. In traditional Japanese culture, seasons aren’t rigid calendar categories but fluid, emotional experiences. According to the classical seasonal calendar used in poetry and literature, Mizubasho is indeed considered a summer season word, reflecting an ancient understanding that nature’s rhythms don’t always match our modern calendar divisions. Even beyond the famous Mizubasho season, Oze continues to enchant visitors throughout the year with its ever-changing tapestry of colors: the fluffy white Watasuge (cotton grass) dancing in summer breezes, the bright yellow Nikkoukisuge lilies, and the spectacular Kusamomiji – the autumn transformation when grasses turn brilliant shades of red and gold, creating their own version of fall foliage.

100 Best Japanese Songs.

Amefuri kumanoko — Why This Simple Melody Still Captures Hearts

Shochiku Central Theater 1960.By Project Kei – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, Link

This beloved song first captured hearts when it was introduced on NHK’s “Uta no Ehon” in 1962, the predecessor to the popular children’s program “Okaasan to Issho.( With Mom. )” The song tells the story of a playful young bear, radiating an irresistible cuteness that has enchanted generations. Despite being over 60 years old, it remarkably feels as fresh today as it did decades ago. The secret lies in its deceptively simple yet captivating melody—one that can be played with just a single finger on a piano or organ. This accessibility has allowed families to enjoy the song together, ensuring its timeless appeal across generations.

What Makes This Song So Touching?

The lyrics create a consistent, tender world that perfectly matches the image of an adorable young bear. Like a child completely absorbed in watching rain fall, oblivious to everything else around them, the song embodies pure innocence and wonder. It glows like a small, warm light in one’s heart, filled with gentle kindness. Many Japanese listeners describe experiencing an unexpectedly emotional response: “It’s not a sad song, but for some reason, it brings tears to my eyes.” This mysterious quality speaks to the song’s ability to touch something deep within us.

How a Father’s Memory Became a Beloved Song

The lyricist, TSURUMI Masao, reportedly drew inspiration from a deeply personal memory. He recalled watching his young child from a second-floor window, mesmerized by water flowing through their family garden during a rainstorm. This nostalgic scene offers a glimpse into Japan’s post-war landscape, during a time of rapid economic growth and anticipation for the 1964 Tokyo Olympics—Asia’s first Olympic Games. The intimate domestic moment captured in the lyrics reflects a Japan in transition, balancing traditional family life with modernization.

Can We Still Find That Magic Today?

Though information about TSURUMI himself remains limited—we know only that he was born in Niigata Prefecture and graduated from Waseda University—we can imagine that his “family garden” was likely somewhere in Tokyo. In those days, even areas just outside the city center featured unpaved roads and natural puddles, as Tokyo rapidly transformed in preparation for the Olympics. Today, those rural mountains that once lay just beyond the city are carefully preserved and cherished by many. Perhaps it’s time to visit the enchanting “Totoro Fund,” where magical adventures still await those who seek them.

The “traditional watchman” standing in the rice fields

The Kakashi, Japanese scarecrows, which can be called an essential “character” in the landscape of Japanese rice fields, is not only important for its practical use in rural areas but also holds deep symbolic meaning rooted in spiritual and cultural traditions. Practically speaking, Kakashi have been placed in rice paddies mainly to protect crops from crows and sparrows. However, in Japanese folk beliefs, they are said to serve as the yorishiro (temporary vessel) of the ta no kami (rice field gods). In rural communities, pest damage from birds and animals was not seen as a mere natural issue but was believed to be caused by malevolent spirits. The Kakashi were thought to possess the power to ward off such spirits. Additionally, the practice of dressing the Kakashi in straw coats and hats symbolized their role as visitors from the gods or the other world, indicating that they were revered as sacred beings rather than mere scarecrows. In this way, the Kakashi were regarded as the incarnations of the ta no kami(rice fields gods) or yama no kami (mountain gods), serving as sacred protectors of the fields.

パブリック・ドメイン, リンク

You’ll Even Find Them in Folktales

The fact that the Kakashi simply stands there, doing nothing, sometimes leads to it being dismissed as “useless,” as even children tease it in songs. Yet, in the context of agricultural society, it played a crucial role. People felt a sense of security and familiarity in the very presence of the Kakashi, which can be seen as a guardian silently watching over the community. This mindset is also reflected in characters like Yotaro from rakugo, who, despite his incompetence, is loved by those around him. In Japanese culture, there is a deeply ingrained attitude of accepting and respecting things, even if they appear useless.

So Familiar, Yet a Bit Uncanny

Scarecrows can be found in other countries as well, but in the West, their function is more practical. Many scarecrows are equipped with moving mechanisms or devices that make sounds to scare off birds and animals, and they are often designed to increase visual deterrence using reflective materials or materials that sway in the wind. In the West, the scarecrow is less a sacred figure and more a tool designed for the efficient protection of crops. Moreover, in Western stories such as The Wizard of Oz, scarecrows are often depicted as characters with personalities, symbolizing the search for wisdom and emotions.

Still Standing as a Symbol of Rural Japan

In contrast, Japanese Kakashi are characterized by their stillness and silence, carrying the sacred role of protecting the fields. The spiritual power imbued in the seemingly powerless Kakashi, and its symbolism as a protector of the community, reflects Japan’s unique perspective on agriculture, nature, and spirituality.

In Japan, “New Year’s” is an incredibly significant seasonal celebration. It marks the start of the year and serves as a chance for a fresh mental and physical reset.

To welcome “Toshigamisama,” the deity of the New Year, people adorn their homes with “Kadomatsu” on auspicious days at the year’s end, prepare “Kagamimochi” and ceremonial sake, all in readiness for the welcoming ceremony. From New Year’s Day until the 3rd, known as “Sanganichi,” it was customary for families to peacefully spend time with Toshigamisama. Until the 1970s, shops would uniformly close, allowing homemakers to prepare “Osechi Ryouri,” dishes that could be made in advance, as they wouldn’t need to work during that period. Families would gather around the kotatsu, enjoying mandarins, visiting relatives and friends to exchange New Year’s greetings, while adults would share “Osechi Ryouri,” and sake from noon… that was the norm back then, an era without convenience stores like today.

Relatives living apart would also come together, and children eagerly awaited receiving “Otoshidama,” a New Year’s gift of pocket money. Cousins would gather, engaging in activities like flying kites, spinning tops, or playing “Hanetsuki” – an era without video games.

Traditionally, until the 15th in the new year, or shortened to the 7th in the Kanto region, “Matsunouchi” was observed. It’s a period where Toshigamisama is entertained at home, before gradually returning to the routine as the cold winter persists.

This song beautifully portrays the anticipation of children eagerly awaiting such “New Year’s” celebrations, expressed in simple yet heartfelt words, making it a timeless and cherished song sung across generations. HIGASHI_Kume, the lyricist, is known as the first person in Japan to write lyrics in colloquial language.

Selected as one of the”100 Best Japanese Songs”.

By the way, “Gantan” and “Ganjitsu” are often used interchangeably, but the character “Tan” is said to represent the rising sun depicted by a single horizontal line beneath the sun, signifying the morning of New Year’s Day.