A Tokyo Summer Ritual: The Little Festival at Shakujii Hikawa Shrine

Man, it's been hot lately. Like, the kind of hot where you step outside and immediately regret it. Even going to the convenience store feels like a mission. But a couple nights ago, just as the sun was starting to go down and the heat got slightly less unbearable, I stepped outside, turned the corner—and boom, there it was.

Music. The smell of grilled sausage. Lanterns hanging. My neighborhood shrine—Shakujii Hikawa Shrine—had come alive.

It’s Just a Small Shrine... Until It’s Not

This little shrine in Nerima is the kind of place you walk past without thinking much. It’s quiet, tucked between houses, usually empty. But every year, in early August, for one night only, it turns into the heart of the neighborhood with its summer festival: Chaguma Tanabata.

It’s not a flashy tourist event or anything—there’s no Instagrammable torii gate or street food hype—but man, once things start, it’s got everything. Live music, glowing lanterns, kids in yukata running around, food stalls, and that feeling like, “Okay yeah, summer’s really here.”

This year’s stage lineup was surprisingly legit. Acoustic guitar, a fun family-friendly concert, and even a jazz trio with violin and sax. I sat down near the shrine’s little stage, takoyaki in one hand, paper fan in the other, while the guy next to me clapped along with a beer. It was just... perfect.

Yukata, Wishes, and That Festival Vibe

There was a spot where people were writing down their wishes and hanging them on bamboo branches. Stuff like “I hope I get promoted” or “Let me find love this summer.” Kinda sweet, right? There was even a yukata booth—just 1,000 yen to get dressed up, and plenty of girls were snapping photos along the lantern-lit walkway. For that one night, the whole place felt like a scene from a summer movie.

What really got me, though, was how many familiar faces were there. It wasn’t packed with tourists—it was just the neighbors. The lady from the veggie stand, the school crossing guard, families, couples, kids, everyone just... there. It felt like our own little backyard party, Tokyo-style.

The Music Fades, But the Feeling Stays

Once the lights turned off and the crowd drifted away, the shrine went back to its usual quiet. The stalls were gone, just a few bamboo branches with wishes left behind, and the smell of grilled corn still floating in the air. That kind of lingering stillness you only notice when something special just ended.

Shakujii Hikawa Shrine isn’t some big-deal destination. It’s not in the guidebooks, not on TikTok. But that’s exactly why I love it. It’s woven into the neighborhood, part of everyday life. And when it lights up, even just for one night, it reminds me why I like living here.