Seasonal Days — A Journey Through Our Land by the 24 Solar Terms, from Ipchun to Daeseo

Seasonal Days — A Journey Through Our Land by the 24 Solar Terms, from Ipchun to Daeseo

The landscapes of Korea’s 24 solar terms, captured by documentary photographer and reportage writer Lee Sangyeop.

Words & Photos * Lee Sangyeop
* Author of ‘Landscape with Lenin,’ ‘From the Pamirs to Yunnan,’ ‘Map of the Borderlands,’ ‘Is the Sweetfish Doing Well?,’ and other books.

© Lee Sangyeop
© Lee Sangyeop

Ipchun 立春 February 4
Everyone has experienced it: graduation day is always cold, as if winter is jealous of spring’s arrival. On the day of my youngest child’s graduation, snow fell generously. Ipchun originally falls in early February, but these days, by mid-to-late January, the weather already feels like Ipchun. Yet the weather traditionally associated with this solar term has all but disappeared. Average temperatures no longer dip below zero throughout January. There may be brief cold spells, but the average temperatures in January and February now stay above freezing.
Ipchun originally marks the moment when the sun’s ecliptic longitude reaches 315 degrees, falling around February 3–4 on the solar calendar. It’s named Ipchun, meaning “the start of spring,” because it marks the beginning of spring for the year. Lunar New Year usually falls around this time. Since ancient times, it’s been said that when Ipchun arrives, the east wind blows, ice melts, and hibernating insects awaken. The term Ipchun was originally based on the climate of North China. In Korea, the weather around this time is irregular from year to year, and some years the period around Ipchun is the coldest of the whole year. And it always seems to fall right on graduation day.

© Lee Sangyeop

Usu 雨水 February 19
Birch trees grow densely along the banks of the Dalrae River in Chungcheongbuk-do. Reminiscent of the Siberian tundra, this tree is prized for its beautiful white bark and its many uses. But just a bit further south, in Chungcheongnam-do, the climate is warm enough that the trees wither and die. Chungcheongbuk-do marks the southern limit of where this tree can grow.
Usu, the solar term following Ipchun, marks the time when snow and ice melt into water — spring has truly arrived at last. On the calendar, Usu falls around February 20, but due to climate change, the actual conditions of Usu now arrive by early February. Usu occurs when the sun reaches 330 degrees of ecliptic longitude. It’s said that when Usu comes, otters enter the water to catch fish and lay them out on rocks. This behavior was interpreted as the otter making an offering to the water spirit, and was called ‘dalje-eo’ (otter’s fish offering). Around this time, geese fly north, and new shoots sprout on trees and plants. The Dalrae River is in fact a place with a rich enough ecosystem that you can actually spot otters. It’s a riverside well suited to a walk with a camera in hand.

© Lee Sangyeop
© Lee Sangyeop

Gyeongchip 驚蟄 March 5
This is the sight of Andong Lake in Gyeongsangbuk-do, dried up from drought. A timid water deer has come out in broad daylight to search for water. It’s an unusual sight, and proof enough of how parched the land is from the spring drought. Gyeongsangbuk-do faces drought nearly every year. Reservoir levels drop below 50 percent, dealing a devastating blow to farming. In severe cases, submerged villages resurface above the waterline, creating surreal landscapes. The houses are gone, but the roads remain clearly traceable, and the stumps of roadside trees still stand. Even so, this time of year and the solar term Gyeongchip feel familiar and even endearing. “The season when frogs wake up!” Combining the characters for “startle” and “insect,” the term refers to thunder rumbling and insects being startled awake from the earth. Rain falls, and the land awakens with life. Though it falls in March by the old calendar, by today’s shifted seasons, Gyeongchip lands roughly at the end of February. It’s said that people of old used to dig up sow thistle in the fields and gather frog eggs from reservoirs to make soup. Frog egg soup? That’s a bit much — a sad reminder of how hard life once was.

Sanbokdoro, Busan
© Lee Sangyeop

Chunbun 春分 March 21
Cut into the hillsides of Busan, the sanbokdoro (mountainside roads) form a distinctive road system linking neighborhoods across the city. These roads were originally built during the Japanese colonial era to address a housing shortage, as people began carving into the mountains to build homes and buildings on the sloped terrain. Back then, they were a symbol of hardship, but today the sanbokdoro offer a unique window into Busan’s history and culture. Walking along the sanbokdoro in the mild spring weather of Chunbun, you can discover all kinds of shops, galleries, and restaurants — and enjoy sweeping views of the surrounding scenery as a bonus. Chunbun, the fourth of the 24 solar terms, falls between Gyeongchip and Cheongmyeong, landing on March 21 by the solar calendar.
Regardless of climate, Chunbun marks the astronomical moment when the sun crosses the equator moving from south to north — the point when day and night are of exactly equal length. Because it marks the moment when yin and yang split evenly, as day and night do, the royal courts of Goryeo and Joseon are said to have held rites on Chunbun when ice was taken out from the ice storehouses. It was likely from this point that the ice in the storehouses began to melt.

© Lee Sangyeop

Cheongmyeong 淸明 April 5
This is the breathtaking sight of green barley fields on Jeju Island. Until Gogu arrives in early April, wind and rain frequently visit Jeju. The rippling barley fields are intoxicating to behold. Jeju Island has even launched a beer brand using this barley. Perhaps someday Jeju will become a sacred site for beer.
Cheongmyeong is one solar term that has shifted significantly due to climate change on the Korean Peninsula. It originally fell around April 5, but has moved up by about 20 days, now landing close to the same time as Chunbun. The solar term once associated with tree planting under clear skies now falls in March, so perhaps Arbor Day itself should be moved up too. In fact, Arbor Day was originally set on Cheongmyeong because the weather at that time was mild enough that trees wouldn’t freeze or dry out — ideal for growing timber that, by the time a child became an adult, could be used to make furniture. Cheongmyeong also overlaps with Hansik (Cold Food Day), which stems from the story of Jie Zitui during China’s Spring and Autumn period; since Hansik doesn’t reflect a climate-based solar term, we’ll set it aside here. It’s said that on this day, tea rather than alcohol was offered at ancestral rites. These days, it seems rare for a household to offer tea at such rites.

© Lee Sangyeop
© Lee Sangyeop

Gogu 穀雨 April 20
This is the rain-soaked scenery of Jikjisa Temple in Gimcheon, Gyeongsangbuk-do. The roof tiles glisten under Gogu’s rain, and the trees’ new leaves grow thick and lush. As I walked along, I found flowers blooming in abundance along the wall of Jikjisa. Smoke curls up gently from a chimney, as if a meal offering is being prepared. April brings the solar terms Cheongmyeong around April 5 and Gogu around April 20, but due to shifting climate patterns, these have effectively become Gogu and Ipha. Cheongmyeong now lasts until early April, Gogu arrives by around the 14th, and by the 27th the weather already resembles Ipha. Gogu, the sixth of the 24 solar terms, literally means that spring rain falls to nourish the hundred grains.
Ahn Cheolhwan, a farmer who wrote a book on the 24 solar terms, said: “When Gogu arrives, farmers become frantically busy. Even up until Chunbun, the lingering ease of the off-season remains, and a yawn still lingers on farmers’ lips. By Cheongmyeong, after warming their throats with a bowl of makgeolli under the mild sunshine and finishing lunch, drowsiness sets in. But as if none of that ever happened, once Cheongmyeong passes, there’s no time to rest. Planting kidney beans and peas, then following up with baby bok choy, mallow, spinach, carrots, and lettuce — it feels like a mad dash from start to finish.”

Daejeon Zoo
© Lee Sangyeop
© Lee Sangyeop

Ipha (Beginning of Summer) — May 5
There are certain animals that are always the most popular at the zoo. Big cats like lions and tigers usually top the list, followed by massive creatures like elephants and giraffes. Even as an adult, seeing these animals up close is genuinely fascinating. But there's one animal that seems utterly out of place in this country's climate: the polar bear. How does such a massive creature, evolved for the frozen north, endure a day like this? Sure enough, the polar bear lies completely limp, not moving an inch. It must be longing for home. But it's simply too hot to move. If crossbreeding with grizzly bears continues due to climate change, purebred polar bears like this one may someday be found only in zoos.
Ipha marks the beginning of summer. The fact that summer begins in early May makes climate change feel very real. Around this time, the green barley on Jeju Island begins to head, which is why Ipha is also called ‘Maekchu’ (barley autumn). All traces of spring vanish, and the mountains and fields turn entirely green. At night, you can hear frogs croaking outside. People go on outings during this pleasant season for activity—which is why the zoo sees its biggest crowds around now.

© Lee Sangyeop

Soman (Grain Full) — May 21
It seems Deogyusan Mountain in Muju isn't meant to be climbed on foot, but ridden up by lift. The lifts used at winter ski resorts diligently ferry people who want an easy way up the mountain. Honestly, I'm against cable cars. Most cable car advocates talk about accessibility for people with disabilities or the local economy, but this is little more than an excuse for monopolistic capital. The Deogyusan cable car was the last one permitted for construction within a national park, back in 1989. Yet now, cable cars are being proposed everywhere.
Let's just walk. The summit of Deogyusan, with its wide daily temperature swings, is shrouded in fog. Hiking clothes become soaked through with dew. It's a peculiar kind of hike. The sun hangs at a solar longitude of 60 degrees, pouring abundant light onto the earth. This is truly the season when all things grow. By the 24 solar terms, this is Soman. During this term, people eat red-colored red bean porridge to prepare for the diseases that summer can bring. Coming down from the mountain, it's worth seeking out a place that makes red bean porridge.

© Lee Sangyeop
© Lee Sangyeop

Mangjong (Grain in Ear) — June 6
This is a village inside Pungnap Toseong Fortress in Gangdong-gu, Seoul. The village actually sits atop 2,000 years of history. Ever since it was confirmed that this was the capital of the Hanseong Baekje era, all redevelopment here has been banned. Someday, the residents will have to leave. The city will buy up their homes and land, and in about 50 years, the area will be transformed entirely into a Hanseong Baekje historical site. For now, it remains a quiet, pleasant village at the heart of the city.
June's solar term is Mangjong. At a solar longitude near 75 degrees, close to the sun's zenith, this is when farmers plant rice seedlings and harvest barley. Farmers are so busy during this term that they seem to have no time to rest. Just as the old saying about the ‘barley hump’ goes, the spring hunger that once plagued people disappears once this term passes. What's more, fruits like plums hanging on trees in the fields grow rapidly larger. City dwellers, unaware of the farmers' toil, can only apologetically see this as a pleasant early-summer season for outings.

© Lee Sangyeop
© Lee Sangyeop
© Lee Sangyeop

Haji (Summer Solstice) — June 21
The black pine trees of Hongdo Island are a spectacular sight. Growing nearly 10 meters tall on the cliffs over hundreds of years, they take on a deep green hue. In fact, not a single grain of rice grows on this island. Hongdo itself is shaped like a mountain peak, with steep terrain and rocky ground. All the residents make their living from fishing, growing wheat or barley in fields only as a side occupation.
The first solar term of June is Haji. Since Haji marks the longest day of the year, it isn't a term tied to weather patterns. Every year, Haji falls around June 21. It's the day when the sun reaches its highest point at noon, and both the duration and intensity of sunlight are at their peak. Given today's climate, Haji now effectively falls in early June, as marked by the start of the monsoon season. Hongdo is a special island in many respects. In 1965, the entire island was designated Natural Monument No. 170, and later became the first place in the country served by a high-speed ferry, cutting the eight-hour one-way sea journey down to two hours. Thanks to this, Hongdo was flooded with tourists through the 1980s. Of course, now that there are so many other places to visit, fewer people come.

© Lee Sangyeop

Soseo (Minor Heat) — July 7
In a farming village below Daecheong Dam, rice grows lush under the scorching sun. Since the grains haven't ripened yet, the scarecrow has nothing to do. These days, a scarecrow is truly just a scarecrow—sparrows have grown far too clever. Daecheong Dam is visible in the distance. Construction began in 1975 and finished in 1980; the dam submerged the homes and farmland of some 4,000 households beneath its vast reservoir. The water it holds is now used to farm trout, taking advantage of the cold water released below the dam. In the height of summer, raw trout sashimi is refreshingly cool and sweet.
The solar term in early July is Soseo. It's the 11th of the 24 solar terms, falling between Haji and Daeseo. By the solar calendar, it lands around July 7, but with climate change, June 27 is now considered the effective start of Soseo. It occurs when the sun is at a solar longitude of 105 degrees, and its name means ‘minor heat.’ Around this time, the true heat of summer begins in earnest.

© Lee Sangyeop
© Lee Sangyeop

Daeseo (Major Heat) — July 22
A giant octopus at the dawn fish market of Jangho Port in Gangwon-do. Boiled octopus is a summer delicacy, though it doesn't come cheap—especially for people in Gyeongsangbuk-do, who have a custom of placing octopus on ancestral rites tables and must bring it in from Gangwon-do, at no small expense.
The solar term in late July is Daeseo, the hottest term of the year. It used to last about 15 days, but due to climate change, Daeseo now stretches on for nearly a month. Combined with Soseo, that's nearly two months—as if summer has expanded to fill in the month that winter has lost. This lengthening of summer, in turn, drives more energy use for cooling, further accelerating climate change—a vicious cycle. Under the newly adjusted terms, Daeseo, which once fell on July 22, now follows right after Soseo and continues until Ipchu (Start of Autumn) on August 20. This span encompasses all three ‘Bok’ days—Chobok, Jungbok, and Malbok. It's no wonder people head to beaches and mountain valleys with food in hand to escape the sweltering heat of these dog days. Boiled octopus truly is a dish made for summer.