From June to August, Cúc Phương forest glows with fleeting magic: fireflies turning the night into a living constellation.

By Hamy Nguyễn

I’ve always believed nature holds a quiet, miraculous power to heal. When city life becomes too much, deadlines piling up, routines spinning on repeat, it’s the thought of green spaces that helps me breathe again.

Surrounded by a thousand shades of green, the air softening as if to soothe your lungs, you realise: healing doesn’t always come from grand gestures. Sometimes, it’s simply about standing still and letting nature hold you for a while.

Cúc Phương at night glowing with fireflies feels like Disney magic. Photo courtesy of Cúc Phương National Park

That’s how I found myself heading to Cúc Phương National Park one weekend. Just two hours from Hà Nội, it’s an easy trip, simple to plan, requiring nothing but the decision to go.

And just like that, only two hours away from Hà Nội, I stumbled upon a pocket of peace that felt worlds apart from the city. 

Fireflies are easy to catch or might land on you along the way. Photo courtesy of Hamy Nguyễn

Many know Cúc Phương for its daytime beauty, but few have heard about its night tours, especially in summer, when the forest comes alive with fireflies.

For 180,000 đồng (about US$7), the night tour invites you to see the forest in a rare, magical way. In just an hour, you’ll wander through firefly-lit trails, visit a semi-wild zone where deer roam freely, and stop by the wildlife conservation centre. Tickets are easy: buy one during the day for an evening slot. Tours run nightly from 7pm to 10pm, with groups departing every 30 minutes.

The journey begins even before the tour: a 1.5 km ride into darkness. No streetlights, just towering trees and the sound of your engine echoing through the night. I remember gripping the handlebars, my headlight slicing through the black. It felt eerie at first, but now I think of it as the perfect prelude, the forest’s way of pulling you into its secret world.

Deer in groups of 2-3 are easy to spot along the way. Photo courtesy of Hamy Nguyễn

We climbed into small electric carts, the kind that fit about ten people, simple, open-air rides into the unknown. Our driver was also our guide, doubling as storyteller and navigator for the 5 km journey ahead.

The cart drifted deeper into the forest, and suddenly, the darkness came alive.

On both sides of the path, thousands of fireflies shimmered like a galaxy unfolding among the trees. It wasn’t just a view; it was a living painting: a canvas of shadows and sparks, vast and borderless, where nature wasn’t something you looked at but something you belonged to. I stood motionless, breathless, as if caught between reality and a dream woven from light.

During the day, Cúc Phương Forest comes alive in a mosaic of green hues. Photo courtesy of Hamy Nguyễn

The most beautiful part was knowing this moment couldn’t, and shouldn’t be captured on a phone. Fireflies fear the light, so you put your camera away and simply watch. Some scenes are meant to live quietly in memory.

The cart glided into the semi-wild zone, where deer are slowly being reintroduced to their natural home. You don’t need to search for them, deer have a curious habit: no matter how far they wander, they return to the same spot to sleep. Our guide knew exactly where to look. And there they were, grazing under a sky full of stars, or huddled close, as if whispering the last secrets of the night.

The final stop was the wildlife rescue centre, where you can quietly observe pangolins, otters, jungle cats, civets, and more. 

I left with two thoughts weighing heavily on my mind. First, these species are all endangered, often for reasons steeped in ignorance, like the cruel myth that pangolin scales can cure cancer. Second, most of the animals I saw will never truly return to the wild. A pangolin missing a leg after being trapped by hunters. A jungle cat orphaned when its mother was killed before its eyes. A small-clawed otter raised as a pet, now too tame to survive alone. Some things, once broken, can never be given back to nature.

A rescued Javan pangolin with one missing leg in the sanctuary.

For me, this wasn’t just a tour, it was a quiet reminder of why we seek nature when life feels heavy. But healing is never one-sided. If we want nature to keep holding space for us, we must protect it in return. Perhaps, on a night like this, that realisation quietly begins.

Thank you, Cúc Phương. VNS