Japan’s lush landscapes have enchanted plant lovers for centuries. Picture a spring mountainside dappled in pink cherry blossoms and an autumn forest ablaze with red maples – it’s no wonder early explorers risked life and limb to collect these botanical treasures. In this post, we’ll wander through Japan’s rich botanical history, from intrepid plant hunters sneaking seeds out of a closed country, to the folk healers brewing herbal remedies, and the cultural celebrations of beloved flowers. Along the way, we’ll spotlight a few star plants (some of which you can find in Woodlanders’ own “Origins: Japan” collection) and how Woodlanders has helped bring these Far Eastern gems into modern gardens. Grab a cup of green tea and join us on this journey – expect fascinating flora, a dash of history, and maybe even a chuckle or two.
Island Geography: Climate Breeds Incredible Plant Diversity
Japan’s archipelago stretches about 3,500 kilometers from chilly Hokkaido in the north to tropical Okinawa in the south. This span creates a kaleidoscope of climates – from snow-laden conifer forests and alpine meadows to subtropical jungles dripping with humidity. Such varied conditions have made Japan a paradise for plant diversity. In fact, Japan is home to roughly 5,600 species of vascular plants, and about one-third of those are found nowhere else on earth. High mountains and isolated islands allowed unique species to evolve; some mountain wildflowers like the Shirane-aoi (Glaucidium palmatum) and Togakushi gōuma (Ranzania japonica) survive only in certain high-altitude pockets of Honshu. The climate’s wide range of temperatures and generous rainfall have blessed Japan with an abundance of flora – nearly 70% of the country is still forested, from temperate broadleaf woods to evergreen rainforests.
Such geographic variety means you could be admiring subtropical banyan trees on Okinawa in the morning and trekking among dwarf pines on a Hokkaido volcano by evening (if you had a really fast plane!). Seasonal swings further spice up the scenery: the same hillsides explode with cherry blossoms in spring and then transform into a fiery tapestry of maple leaves in autumn. This ever-changing natural canvas has deeply influenced Japanese culture – inspiring everything from poetry to garden design – and provided a huge palette of plant species for gardeners around the world to enjoy. Woodlanders has long appreciated this diversity, sourcing Japanese species adapted to different climates – whether it’s a delicate alpine flower or a heat-loving shrub – so that gardeners from Maine to Miami can find a piece of Japan that thrives in their backyard.
A colossal Jōmon Sugi cedar in Yakushima’s misty forest, estimated to be thousands of years old. Japan’s varied climate – from rainy subtropics to cool highlands – has fostered an astounding diversity of plant life, including ancient giants like this Cryptomeria.
Japan’s terrain also hid ancient survivors of past eras. During the last Ice Age, while glaciers bulldozed much of Europe’s flora, Japan’s relative refuge allowed many primitive plant lineages to persist. Today, walking through a Japanese forest can feel like stepping back in time – you might find prehistoric-looking ferns or an ancient Japanese cedar (Cryptomeria japonica, known as sugi) that’s over a thousand years old. In Yakushima Island, the most famous sugi – Jōmon Sugi – is so old that its age is measured in millennia (some say up to 7,200 years!). These cedars are more than just trees; they are living monuments. Many have stood watch over Shinto shrines and mountain temples for centuries, considered sacred guardians of the land. It’s fitting that sugi is often called Japan’s national tree, symbolizing endurance and natural heritage.
Samurai Botanists and Plant Hunters: Early Explorers of Japan’s Flora
For much of history, Japan’s botanical riches were a well-kept secret – in part because outsiders were not exactly welcome. During the Edo period (1603-1868), Japan’s policy of isolation meant very few Westerners set foot on its soil. But a handful of determined plant lovers still managed to unlock the garden gates. These early plant explorers were the Indiana Jones of horticulture (armed with trowels instead of whips), and their stories are the stuff of legend.
One of the first was Engelbert Kaempfer, a German physician who finagled his way into Japan in the 1690s as a doctor for the Dutch East India Company. Kaempfer was a keen observer and became the first Westerner to describe the ginkgo tree, that strange “living fossil” with fan-shaped leaves. He even managed to send ginkgo seeds to Europe, planting one of the earliest ginkgo trees in Holland around 1700. Imagine the excitement back home when a tree known only from ancient fossils and temple gardens in Asia sprouted on European soil! Kaempfer’s writings, later published as part of Flora Japonica, also described many Japanese plants new to science at the time.
Not long after, Carl Peter Thunberg – a Swedish disciple of Linnaeus – arrived (disguised as a Dutchman to slip past the isolation edicts) and spent the 1770s cataloguing Japanese flora. Thunberg earned the nickname “the Japanese Linnaeus” for documenting hundreds of species and publishing a landmark Flora Japonica in 1784. He carried home seeds and specimens of camellias, hydrangeas, maples, and more, fueling Europe’s first wave of “Japanophilia” in gardening.
By the 19th century, Japan’s plants became the obsession of Victorian horticulturists. Perhaps the most famous was Philipp Franz von Siebold, a Bavarian doctor stationed at Dejima (Nagasaki) in the 1820s. Siebold turned his residence into a mini botanical garden, trading with local growers and even the shōgun’s gardeners to amass a huge collection of living plants. Upon returning to Europe, Siebold published an extravagant illustrated book, Flora Japonica, and even pioneered a mail-order business for Japanese plants in Europe (Victorian plant geeks could literally order a Japanese maple by post – the Amazon Prime of its day!). Through Siebold’s efforts, Europeans were introduced to marvels like the hosta, Japanese wisteria, hydrangea, and countless others. He even forever intertwined botany and romance: Siebold named a beautiful big-leaf hydrangea “Otaksa” after his Japanese wife, Taki Kusumoto (whom he affectionately called Otakusa). Though they couldn’t legally marry at the time (alas, mixed marriages were forbidden then), their love story lives on in that hydrangea’s name – a sweet botanical Valentine.
As Japan opened its ports in the late 1800s, a flood of plant hunters followed. British and American collectors scoured the countryside for new ornamentals to thrill gardeners back home. They gathered Japanese maples with finely cut leaves, irises of unheard-of colors, chrysanthemum cultivars fit for royal gardens, and the legendary Japanese flowering cherries. By the early 20th century, the West had fallen in love with Japan’s flowering cherries – culminating in Tokyo’s gift of sakura trees to Washington D.C. in 1912, now the stars of the annual Cherry Blossom Festival. What started with a few adventurous botanists had blossomed (pun intended) into a full-scale horticultural exchange.
Fast-forward to today: we no longer need to risk typhoons and samurai suspicion to enjoy Japan’s plants – specialty nurseries like Woodlanders carry the torch. In fact, Woodlanders’ founders and plant experts have done their own globetrotting (albeit with less drama) to bring back new species and cultivars. Ever since 1979, Woodlanders has been “rooted in rarity” and passionate about sharing plants from around the world– including many Japanese natives that were once the prize of those old plant hunters. So when you browse the Woodlanders catalog for a tree peony or an edgeworthia, you’re partaking in a grand tradition of plant discovery (minus the need for a steamer ship and pith helmet!).
Leaves as Medicine: Japan’s Traditional Plant Remedies
Centuries before Western science caught on, the Japanese (often drawing from Chinese herbal knowledge in a practice known as Kampō) were tapping into the healing powers of their local flora. Every mountain hamlet and temple garden had its share of medicinal herbs – nature’s pharmacy for everything from tummy aches to battle wounds. Early European visitors to Japan were astonished to see the locals using therapies like moxibustion (burning dried mugwort on acupuncture points) and diverse plant potions. To the samurai-era Japanese, a walk in the woods wasn’t just scenic – it was an opportunity to gather useful remedies.
Take the humble willow. In Japan, as elsewhere, willow bark was brewed into a tea for aches and pains – a remedy that works because willow contains salicin, the natural precursor to aspirin. (Yes, long before Bayer synthesized the pill, a willow twig was the go-to aspirin – nature outsmarting us once again!). The Japanese pussy willow (Salix chaenomeloides), one of the plants in Woodlanders’ “Origins: Japan” collection, would have been valued not just for its fluffy spring catkins but also as a source of pain relief. We can imagine an Edo-era herbalist stripping willow bark to soothe a feverish child – the same wisdom that led to one of the world’s most common modern medicines.
Another fascinating example is Ardisia japonica, known in Japanese as Jūryō (literally “ten ryō,” an old currency – it hints that this little plant was worth a fortune). Ardisia is an evergreen groundcover with red berries, and it holds a special place in both medicine and holiday custom. Herbal healers used Ardisia leaves and roots to treat coughs and even serious ailments – it’s listed among the 50 fundamental herbs in traditional Chinese/Japanese medicine. At the same time, the plant’s cheerful red berries made it a popular New Year’s decoration; families would display it for good luck and prosperity. So you have this wonderful dual identity: Jūryō is both a healing herb and a symbol of good fortune. (Talk about multitasking!) Woodlanders offers a variegated form of Ardisia japonica, so modern gardeners can enjoy its glossy leaves and medicinal lore – even if you’re more likely to admire it as a houseplant than brew it into a cough syrup.
Tea lovers will appreciate that Camellia sinensis – the tea plant itself – has been cultivated in Japan since at least the 8th century. While originally imported from China, the tea shrub adapted to Japan’s hillsides and became the backbone of the Japanese tea ceremony, a cultural and spiritual practice. Tea was valued as a health elixir (rich in antioxidants as we now know) and as a means to Zen enlightenment in a cup. Meanwhile, Camellia japonica (tsubaki), the ornamental cousin, contributed in other ways: its seeds were pressed for camellia oil, a treasured hair treatment and skin moisturizer for centuries. (Geishas swore by camellia oil for that silky hair shine – a beauty secret now backed by modern cosmetic science.) In traditional rural villages, if you had a sore scalp or dry skin, a few drops of tsubaki oil were the cure-all. It’s amazing how many common garden plants hide a history of healing uses.
From ginger roots to ginseng, licorice to lotus, the catalog of Japanese medicinal plants is long and rooted in deep observation of nature. Each region had its famed remedies – a certain moss for cuts, a mountain herb for longevity, a seaweed for goiter… The old texts and local grandmothers’ tales are full of such plant lore. While today one might visit a pharmacy in Tokyo rather than a yamabushi (mountain hermit) herbalist, many modern medicines in Japan still derive from these traditional botanical cures. Growing a Japanese herb in your garden – say, a patch of Japanese mugwort (Artemisia princeps, used in ceremonial mochi rice cakes and moxibustion) – means growing a piece of this living history. Woodlanders’ selection of “Medicinal Mavens” overlaps with some Japanese classics, so gardeners can experiment with these herbs (responsibly, of course) and perhaps gain a new appreciation for the science and spirit in old folk remedies.
Blossoms and Bonsai: Plants in Japanese Culture and Tradition
Plants aren’t just background scenery in Japan – they are central characters in the culture’s story. The Japanese have a knack for elevating a single flower or tree to almost celebrity status, complete with festivals, poetry, and traditions. Arguably the most famous is the sakura, the Japanese cherry blossom. “If there is a plant that best represents Japan, it is the sakura,” notes one Japanese fact sheet bluntly. Every spring, the entire nation tracks the “cherry blossom front” as it moves northward, with daily forecasts of when each town’s cherries will peak. When the blooms burst open, people pour into parks for hanami (flower-viewing parties), picnicking under pink clouds of petals. It’s a centuries-old tradition that today is equal parts reverence and revelry – families, office workers, and friends all spread their tarps, open bento boxes (and perhaps a beer or two), and celebrate the transient beauty of the blossoms. The charm is as much about the moment as the flower: in a week the petals will fall like snow, a poignant reminder of life’s ephemerality. No wonder poets and painters immortalized sakura in countless works.
Spring hanami under the cherry blossoms – a national pastime in Japan. Every year, people flock to parks (like these picnickers in Tokyo) to eat, drink, and rejoice beneath blooming sakura trees.
Equally beloved, if a tad less rowdy, is the autumn custom of momijigari (maple-leaf viewing). Come October-November, the Japanese maple leaves turn fiery red, orange, and gold, and throngs of folks trek into the countryside or temple gardens to admire the colors. It’s like a slow-motion fireworks show by nature. Even in the bustling cities, you’ll find ginkgo trees lining boulevards, their fan-shaped leaves turning bright yellow and carpeting the sidewalks – a golden gift of fall. The seasonal color change (kōyō) is such a big deal that it’s covered by the news just like cherry blossoms, with forecasts of the “best viewing” times. For a culture that historically attuned itself to nature’s rhythms, these cycles of blooming and leaf-fall are more than aesthetic; they’re practically a spiritual calendar.
Certain plants also play starring roles in holidays and arts. For New Year’s, the front door is flanked by kadomatsu arrangements of pine, bamboo, and plum – pine (matsu) symbolizing longevity, bamboo resilience, and plum blossoms hope (for they bloom in late winter snow). The fact that pine and bamboo remain green through winter made them symbols of endurance; you’ll see them paired with plum in paintings as the “Three Friends of Winter.” Flowers have their Imperial seals and family crests too: the chrysanthemum (kiku) is the emblem of the Emperor, representing the sun. The paulownia leaf is another imperial symbol. And let’s not forget bonsai – the art of cultivating miniature trees. Bonsai isn’t a species but a practice, applied often to pines, maples, azaleas, etc. It’s practically a philosophy of patience and aesthetic pruning. (It’s said you don’t truly own a bonsai; you merely care for it for the next generation. Talk about long-term investment!)
Even everyday garden plants carry cultural weight. The Japanese iris is celebrated in poetry and in the annual Iris Festival; old legends tell of samurai boys bathing in iris-scented water on Boys’ Day to absorb the flower’s bravery. Lotus flowers are icons of purity in Buddhist ponds, rising unstained from muddy waters – many temple gardens feature lotus pools for contemplation. Osmanthus (fragrant olive, kinmokusei in Japanese) announces autumn with its heavenly perfume drifting through neighborhoods – a single tree can make an entire street smell like apricot jam for a few weeks each year. People literally stop in their tracks to inhale and say “ii nioi!” (“what a good smell!”). And of course, the majestic Cryptomeria cedar (sugi) we met earlier isn’t just a tree; it’s considered sacred at many shrines. Walk the approach to an old Shinto shrine and you’re likely to be shaded by towering sugi, sometimes hung with Shimenawa ropes to signify their holiness. Some of these shrine cedars were planted hundreds of years ago by feudal lords or monks, and they still stand, linking the present to the past. It gives you goosebumps to stand before one and imagine all the generations that have cared for it.
In short, plants permeate Japanese culture in ways big and small – from festivals and folklore to family crests and tea ceremonies. They’re characters in myths (the moon princess Kaguya was found in a bamboo stalk), and they’re part of life’s milestones (cherry blossoms at school entrance ceremonies, a sprig of red camellia in a tea ceremony tokonoma). This deep-rooted appreciation explains why when Western plant explorers finally accessed Japan, they found not just new species, but also rich stories and horticultural arts to learn from. It wasn’t merely “oh look, a pretty flower” – it was “this flower has a poem, a festival, a recipe, and five local names!” As gardeners, knowing these stories makes growing the plants all the more meaningful. Planting a Japanese maple in your yard isn’t just adding fall color; it’s inviting a bit of cultural heritage to share in that annual spectacle of leaves turning crimson.
From Japan to Your Garden: Woodlanders as Plant Ambassadors
Given Japan’s profound plant legacy, it’s only natural that gardeners worldwide want a slice of that beauty. But how do you get a rare mountain hydrangea or an ancient shrine cedar from a remote Japanese island into your suburban backyard? Enter plant nurseries like Woodlanders, the unsung heroes connecting East and West flora. Woodlanders has been a purveyor of Japanese plants for decades, earning a reputation as a go-to source for both classic favorites and obscure curiosities from the Land of the Rising Sun. They’ve essentially done the hard work of plant exploration (minus the samurai encounters), so you can order a bit of Japan with a click of a button and a cheerful delivery to your door.
Woodlanders’ “Origins: Japan” collection is a treasure trove that reads like a botanical storybook. Each plant in that list has a tale to tell. For example, the collection offers the Japanese Roof Iris (Iris tectorum). This iris isn’t called “roof iris” for nothing – traditionally in Japan and China it was planted on thatched cottage roofs!. (It likely helped bind the thatch and maybe even ward off evil, depending on who you ask.) Imagine a little purple-and-white iris blooming on your roof – talk about curb appeal! While you might not have a thatched roof handy, Woodlanders’ offering of Iris tectorum means you can grow this piece of folklore in a flowerbed or pot. It’s a great conversation starter: “Did you know my iris has ancestors that literally grew on people’s houses?”
Another gem is Rohdea japonica, amusingly nicknamed “Nippon Lily” or “Sacred Lily.” In Japan it’s called Omoto, and it has an almost cult-like following among plant enthusiasts. In fact, it’s said that elderly Japanese gentlemen sometimes devote their retirement years to breeding new Rohdea varieties – collecting rare striped or spotted forms like living baseball cards. Woodlanders’ clone ‘Claudia Phelps’ has a direct connection to this lore: it originates from an old estate in Aiken, SC (home of Woodlanders) but is of the same species that graces countless omoto pots in Japan. By making Rohdea available stateside, Woodlanders has enabled modern gardeners to join in this centuries-old hobby of growing and hybridizing the “sacred lily.” You might find yourself becoming that retiree fussing over your potted Rohdea – it’s oddly addictive, as the Japanese know well!
Woodlanders has also championed Japanese tree species that deserve wider use. One example is the Japanese Cedar (Cryptomeria japonica). In Japan, cryptomeria is a lumber tree, a sacred tree, and a garden ornamental all in one – but in the West it was once uncommon. Woodlanders helped popularize it by offering hardy selections that thrive in our climates. Now gardeners from the Southeast to the Pacific Northwest plant cryptomerias for their elegant, feathery evergreen presence. It’s not every day you can plant your own “temple cedar” in the front yard! Similarly, Woodlanders has carried Japanese maples, camellias, azaleas, and even unusual vines like Stauntonia (called mube in Japan) – a fruiting vine traditionally foraged in Japanese woods. By propagating these plants and sharing their backstories, Woodlanders acts as a cultural broker, ensuring these botanical legacies are not lost to obscurity or confined to their native soil.
What’s remarkable is that Woodlanders doesn’t just sell plants – they often share the narrative of why each plant matters. Flip through their catalog or website and you’ll find nuggets of history and cultural context alongside the horticultural details. This enriches the gardening experience: when you plant a Styrax obassia (Fragrant Snowbell tree) from their collection, you’ll know it’s the same sweetly-scented tree that might line a trail on Mt. Fuji’s foothills, perfuming the spring air for hikers. Or if you tend a Camellia japonica ‘Imura’, you might recall that camellias were so revered in Japan that they appear in centuries-old art and tea rituals. These connections turn your garden into a mini cultural landscape.
As gardeners, we live in a fortunate era. We can enjoy a worldly mix of plants that our ancestors could only dream about. Next time you sip tea under your backyard cherry tree or admire the intricate blooms of your Japanese iris, give a nod to those early explorers who brought these treasures out of Japan, and to nurseries like Woodlanders that keep the legacy alive. Woodlanders has been bridging continents through plants since 1979 – much like Siebold sending mail-order plants across the sea in the 1830s – but now with FedEx and phytosanitary certificates instead of clipper ships. The spirit of discovery remains, yet the experience is accessible to all of us.
Growing Stories Alongside Plants
In exploring Japan’s botanical history, we see that plants are so much more than “just plants.” They carry stories – of climates and geography, of explorers with botany fever, of ancient remedies and cultural traditions. Each seed or cutting exchanged between Japan and the West was a little packet of story waiting to sprout. Today, as we cultivate Japanese maples in North America or cherry trees in Europe, we’re also cultivating those stories in new soil. It’s a reminder that every garden is connected to a larger tapestry of human and natural history.
Perhaps the next time you stroll through your garden, you’ll pause by that Japanese fern or peony and feel a sense of connection – to a faraway mountain forest, to a samurai-era healer, or to a curious 18th-century botanist packing his specimens. And if you haven’t yet added a touch of Japan to your plant collection, Woodlanders is there to help you become an “armchair plant explorer.” With an engaging tale behind every leaf, gardening becomes not just an act of nurturing nature but also of preserving heritage. In the grand bonsai of life, we are but caretakers – so plant something meaningful, tend it well, and enjoy the living story as it unfolds in your own backyard. Happy gardening – yoi engei wo! (良い園芸を – wishing you good gardening.)
