As the first full moon of the lunar year rose in early March 2026, communities across South Korea came alive with the vibrant traditions of Jeongwol Daeboreum. This ancient festival, celebrated on the 15th day of the first lunar month, is more than just a date on the calendar—it’s a living testament to the hopes, rituals, and unity that have bound Korean villages together for centuries.
In Seoul, the 16th Jeongwol Daeboreum Dalmaji Festival lit up the banks of Yangjaecheon in Seocho-gu on March 2, 2026. According to News1, the highlight of the evening was the burning of the 'daljip'—a large structure crafted from wood and straw. As flames leapt into the night sky, onlookers gathered around, believing that the ritual would drive away misfortune and usher in a year of peace and prosperity. The crackle of burning wood, the glow on children’s faces, and the murmured prayers all wove together in a scene both timeless and fleeting.
But Seoul wasn’t alone in its festivities. From February 24 to March 2, the Cultural Heritage Administration transformed Changgyeonggung Palace into a moonlit wonderland. Each evening, a luminous full moon model hovered near Punggi-dae, bathing the historic grounds in soft, silvery light from 6 PM to 8:30 PM. The event, aptly named 'Jeongwol Daeboreum, Full Moon Descended on Changgyeonggung,' offered visitors a chance to reflect on the season’s meanings amid the palace’s storied architecture. And for those with eyes on the heavens, February 24 and 25 brought a special treat: alongside the Seoul Astronomical Observatory, guests could gaze through telescopes in front of Yanghwadang, marveling at celestial wonders under the festival’s symbolic moon.
Yet, perhaps the most poignant celebrations took place far from the capital’s bustle, in the heart of Korea’s countryside. In Sojeong-myeon, Undang 2-ri, Sejong City, the Jeongwol Daeboreum festivities returned on March 3 after a seven-year pause imposed by the COVID-19 pandemic. As reported by TJB, about 100 residents, including Mayor Choi Min-ho, gathered beneath a 450-year-old Donggunamu (Oriental raisin tree) for the Mokshin-je, a ritual honoring the wood spirit. Participants scribbled their wishes on slips of paper, tucking them into the daljip before setting it ablaze. The flames, dancing against the night, were more than spectacle—they were a symbol of resilience. "It’s a joy to revive this tradition after so long," one attendee remarked, echoing the community’s shared relief and hope for the future.
Meanwhile, in Seokpyeong Village, Gamcheon-myeon, Yecheon-gun, Gyeongsangbuk-do, the night of March 3, 2026, carried a special weight. At the stroke of midnight, villagers and officials gathered in solemn silence for the Dongsinje, a ritual venerating the village guardian deity. The ceremony unfolded at the foot of Seoksongnyeong, a majestic pine tree estimated to be 600 years old and recognized as Natural Monument No. 294. According to Y-C News, this isn’t just any tree—it’s steeped in legend as the village’s 'rich tree.' The story goes that after a devastating flood centuries ago, the pine was salvaged and planted at the village entrance, where it has stood ever since, its branches spreading wide like a protective umbrella.
The rituals at Seokpyeong are as much about community as they are about tradition. Presided over by the Seoksongnyeong Preservation Society and a group of devoted ritual leaders, the Dongsinje is a moment for collective prayer—hopes for a bountiful harvest, good health, and peace echoing into the night. As one participant reflected, "Tradition is not merely something to be preserved from the past, but a source of strength for our community’s future." The ceremony, with its careful offerings and respectful bows, reinforced the bonds that tie generations together.
Jeongwol Daeboreum’s customs vary from place to place, but the underlying themes are strikingly consistent: a yearning for well-being, an affirmation of community, and a reverence for nature’s cycles. The daljip burning, for instance, is believed to dispel bad luck and attract good fortune. In Sejong and Seoul alike, the sight of straw and wood consumed by fire is a powerful metaphor for letting go of the old and embracing the new.
Other rituals, like Mokshin-je and Dongsinje, draw on Korea’s deep-rooted animist traditions. Trees like the Donggunamu and Seoksongnyeong aren’t just botanical wonders—they’re living symbols of protection and prosperity. The Seoksongnyeong, in particular, carries a unique legacy: in the 1920s, a local resident even registered the tree as a landowner, allowing it to collect rent and pay taxes, with the proceeds supporting scholarships and village needs. It’s no wonder the tree is affectionately called the 'rich tree'—its roots run deep, both literally and figuratively.
Back at Changgyeonggung Palace, the interplay between old and new was on full display. The illuminated moon model, set against centuries-old palace walls, invited visitors to contemplate the passage of time and the enduring relevance of tradition. Stargazing events, held in partnership with the Seoul Astronomical Observatory, bridged scientific curiosity and cultural heritage, reminding attendees that wonder and wisdom often go hand in hand.
For many Koreans, Jeongwol Daeboreum is also a time to savor traditional foods, play folk games, and reconnect with neighbors. Although not every custom was mentioned in this year’s coverage, the festival’s spirit was unmistakable: a blend of solemn ritual, communal joy, and hopeful anticipation. As one resident in Yecheon reflected during the Dongsinje, "The traditions we keep are not just for us today, but for the generations yet to come."
In a rapidly changing world, these annual gatherings offer a rare chance to pause and look both backward and forward. Whether under the city lights of Seoul or the ancient shade of Seoksongnyeong, the festival’s message rings clear: unity, resilience, and hope endure, as long as people come together to honor them.
With spring just around the corner, the flames of Jeongwol Daeboreum have once again illuminated the path ahead—a path shaped by memory, meaning, and the quiet strength of tradition.