In Pictures: Japan’s Sakura Season In Full Bloom

Cherry blossom culture permeates every facet of Japanese society. Through art, food, history and modern brand moments the annual sakura is celebrated from every angle.

Japan’s ancient philosophies are born from centuries of acceptance of the natural ways of their island nation. Appreciation of fleeting beauty crosses multiple parallel themes: Acceptance of the fragility of human creation in the face of natural disaster; Acute awareness of the natural world and its impact on daily life; And deep-set beliefs around the importance of transience and taking in the moment in front of you.

All these cultural elements combine every spring in the marking of sakura season. When cherry and other fruit trees come into bloom and locals engage in Hanami. Friends and families sit underneath trees in parks across the country, complete with picnics and smart outfits. Great respect is given to the trees. There’s no pulling of branches of littering. Everything is tidied and taken home to make sure parks remain pristine for others wanting to pass the time by noting the passing of time.

In 2025, other facets of cultural appreciation creep into the zeitgeist. Formula One dresses drivers, cars and other branding in sakura pink; Michelin chefs lean into the theme, creating sakura shaped dishes doused in pink; and Gen Z lap up the opportunity to be part of this mindful practice, grabbing selfies and doing TikTok dances under the pink flowers. Even weather Apps have got in on the celebrations, providing everyone with real-time updates on what’s blooming where and best places to experience full-force Hanami.

Of course, the official peak bloom varies each year with changing conditions. Japan being such a long country, the south of Honshu can see very warm spring days while Hokkaido in the north is still under a layer of snow. A visit in early April and beyond from south to north should guarantee a least a little blush to decorate a journey.

Wild Japan: Searching For A Special Bird On Okinawa

An oversized statue of Okinawa’s legendary bird greets you at the airport’s luggage carousel. The end of a flight from Tokyo and the start of an entirely different adventure.

The sun had already dropped below Nara’s buildings by the time I secured a taxi. My driver, a diminutive man with the creases of someone well past eighty and the delighted smile of a ten year old, pulled away slowly in his beaten up estate for the drive north. The sense that I’d bungled the trip settled onto my shoulders like an icy harness against the warm evening air. I’ve often experienced the unpredictability of arriving somewhere after dark. Onward connections poorly arranged or delayed. Not just into the unknown but through complete night.

The difference this time? My husband was by my side. In fact, this was our honeymoon and I already knew how lucky I was that he had agreed to a colossal detour.

After an hour of communal nodding, clucking sounds, basic Japanese and zero English, I decided to reveal our quest. As the car curved less than five metres from the lapping Pacific ocean, I annunciated: “Yanbarrrruuuu Kuina”…”Ahhhh, Yanbaru Kuina!” the driver replied. His smile broadened in my direction through the rearview mirror to show teeth black and abandoned at the back of his gums.

The Yanbaru Kuina. A beautiful rail. The reason for my visit and a holy grail for birders worldwide. Tall and slender with streamlined markings in black, white and slate grey delineating the shape of its body and ensuring it blends perfectly into the shadows of Yambaru’s thick forest. Millenia of isolated evolution in the remote archipelago gave rise to unique flora and fauna for which the Kuina, or Okinawa Rail as it’s known in English, has become the poster child.

Not even a long drive and remote stay in Yambaru National Park guaranteed a sighting. The Kuina’s elusive reputation proceeds it. So much so that You-Tubers dedicate entire videos to the search and wildlife guides have built careers around their ability to show others where the mythical bird nests. Foraging mostly at dawn and dusk, it spends most of its life within dense vegetation. Decipherable only by a bright orange beak and feet.

The security guard was still patrolling with his torch the next morning as a Japanese couple from Nagoya and I stepped fuzzily into the pre-dawn light. Binoculars ready, facing the trees that surrounded the Vietnamese-built Ada Garden Hotel. As with most nature moments, two years of viewing images, six months of research and weeks of anticipation came to an abrupt halt with an unceremonious “Shhhh!”. The guard gently flicked his torch beam onto the ground below revealing a slick, shadowed body with shiny orange adornments.

Later, we hiked to the seaside village of Ada. Butterflies, bugs, reptiles and other birds were a welcome distraction from the growing heat. Huge Common Maps, Swallowtails and Broad-headed Skinks danced and slithered between the long grasses. Rock thrushes, sandpipers and fleeting woodpeckers were easily heard against their silent surrounds. Even a tired Pacific Golden Plover rested at the local primary school field, mid-migration. The Kuina was ever-present. Not only as a mural on the village hall but in my mind. Would we get lucky enough to spot another forager before returning to Nara?

Wilting in the midday sun, we sought the shade of the village park. All routes led to a Shinto shrine built against a backdrop of dripping foliage. Then, a sound. The crunch of rubbery leaves not quite a squeak nor a rustle. We hushed to something beyond silence and I gripped my husband’s arm in pure delight as we watched two Kuinas step tentatively into the daylight. They navigated the small shrine, before doing something unbelievable: This majestic bird, renowned for its secluded lifestyle, paraded right in front of us, pecking at worms across the dusty yard.

Nature rarely does what you expect and many of us seek it out for that reason. The Kuina is more than a rare bird. It represents a time when nature dominated these islands. Before shifting military presence, taxis and airports. Before creatures felt the threat of human interference or developed fear. A reminder of just how much places like Yambaru National Park need our continued funding and protection.

Considering a visit? Find out more about Yambaru National Park here.

Wild Japan: Seeking Nature In The Land Of The Rising Sun

A clear morning atop Tokyo’s Metropolitan Government Building. My gaze follows a jagged sea of skyscrapers so far that they appear to drop beyond earth’s curve completely.

With a population of over 37 million, greater Tokyo is the third largest urban sprawl in the world. Is Japan only bright lights, office-chic and city-slickers?

While the scale of urbanity in some areas is hard to fathom, Japan’s reverence of the natural world is rooted in its ancient cultures. Philosophies that respect flora and fauna, viewing it as intrinsic to our peace and wellbeing, mean that gardens, green spaces and other natural environments like thermal springs are celebrated, not curtailed.

This appreciation of nature is also reflected in Shinto and Buddhism. They pay homage through mindful rituals and the sensitive construction of shrines and temples. Far from acting as stand-alone, imperious places of worship like the gothic cathedrals of Europe, these buildings blend into their natural environment. Their plain wooden or stone façades appearing as part of the wider habitat instead of fighting against it.

The country’s extreme vulnerability to natural disasters has, over centuries, also propelled concepts like ‘wabi sabi’. The acceptance of imperfection and the fleeting nature of life. Alongside ideas like ‘bosai’ – preparation and community spirit in the face of what may come next. More recently, environmental science has driven even greater protection in the form of sea barriers, considered re-wilding and seismic shutdown systems.

Tranquil city parks and private gardens are curated as an ode to Japan’s natural topography. Features like water, pebbles and moss represent larger versions of similar habitats found in the mountains surrounding cities. Placement of lanterns and bridges is meticulous, drawing the eye to more important areas and referencing ancient gods, stories and faiths.

That said the Japanese are also pragmatists. From the window seat of any train journey, large-scale production and unapologetic – sometimes even ugly – urbanisation bleeds into every bit of visible countryside. Even Mount Fuji’s view comes complete with a factory or two in front of it. So is there a wilder side of Japan to be found? And if so, where?

On Route: City Parks & Waterways

Endemic bird species like the Varied Tit, Brown-eared Bulbul, Pygmy Woodpecker and Warbling White-eye can be found in most city parks. As well as more recognisable variants like cormorants, mallards, wagtails and egrets around waterways and ponds. On visits to slightly more wooded areas like bamboo forests or out-of-town shrines, keep eyes to the ground for Dusky Thrushes, White-cheeked Starlings and rarities like the Daurian Redstart and Red-billed Leothrix – a very special little bird!

In Nara, deer roam the temples and can get quite frisky if you have crackers in your pocket. Feeding is sensibly monitored by locals but no touching and respect for the revered animals hopefully goes without saying.

A well-spent day strolling Kyoto’s wide, clean river!

Small Detours: Japanese Alps & Miyajima Island

During a few days in the cooler-climate mountains near Nagano I spotted the Japanese variant of the Eurasian Jay, Japanese Woodpecker, Willow Tits and of course the star of the show: Japanese Macaque monkeys bathing in the natural hot springs.

A spring day trip from Hiroshima to Miyajima Island produced all the regulars plus a fantastic encounter with a Japanese Striped Snake, swallows and yet more deer. Ospreys, Black Kites and sea birds are plentiful along the main bay.

Further Afield: Okinawa & Beyond

Popular with Japanese holiday makers for long weekends, Okinawa’s warm climate three hours flight south of Tokyo throws up a whole different host of animals. Including sea snakes, turtles and countless fish along its reefs south of the island’s capital. Very special endemic birds live here, as well as adrift migrants. Keep eyes peeled for the Ryukyu Robin, Orange Okinawa Woodpecker, various owls and a local celebrity: The Okinawa Rail. The island’s also brilliant for bug and butterfly spotting, with a small reserve in Naha also providing chances to see crabs and uniquely comical mud-skippers.

Despite Japan’s reputation as a master of its urban environments, I found nature at every turn. In fact, the moments I shared with its creatures became stand out memories of my trip. Simply because natural encounters are best when we least expect them. Short, sweet and in high contrast to skyscrapers as far as the eye can see.

Get in touch if you have any other wild tips for exploring Japan!

Japan: A Beginner’s Route

Most of us are aware of Japan’s unmistakable aesthetic before we arrive. By embracing its most famous haunts we become part of the postcard.

If you’re beamed down into any part of Japan’s mainland it’s instantly recognisable. The bold reds and sharp monotones of its urban alleyways. Each one a tentacle slipping expertly through garish billboards and titanic shards of skyscraper glass. The bronzes and greens of its tranquil temples and palaces, each iteration identical as they rise from the rubble of natural disasters complete with water features and bamboo gardens. Its quintessential kitsch everywhere you turn, from Betty Boop signs to giant electronic cats and all manner of anime poster-chic in between.

Even the food is undeniably Japanese. From the bright greens of mochi and matcha to convenience store strawberries the size of your fist. Every moment here is a snapshot from social media that you may well have caught before.

Where does a first time visitor start?

I chose to trace a teardrop around Japan’s main island, Honshu. Starting in Tokyo and moving south at pace on the Shinkansen to Hiroshima via Nagoya for a brief but frenetic Formula One pit stop. Before tracking back up the west coast, spending time in Kyoto and Japan’s alpine region, returning to Tokyo almost two weeks later.

Along the way, I experienced a 90s style mix-tape of the nation’s greatest hits, while making sure I didn’t lose myself in what everyone else was doing. I spent an entire day birdwatching in Hiroshima’s Shukkeien Garden and strolled Kyoto’s river for an afternoon until my belly gave into unagi (eel) off a side street. That said, I let myself be swept up in the essence of what makes the country unique. Yes, I fed the Nara deer crackers and visited Shinjuku at night just to cross roads with the crowds a few times. To feel a small part of what makes Tokyo tick.

Wabi Sabi, Hanami and other highlights

Japan’s top trump is that there’s something for everyone. I was indifferent to anime, video game culture, drinking traditions and the dynamics of the adult entertainment scene, which helped hone my curiosity.

I was fascinated by Japan’s ancient philosophies and faiths. Its policies that had kept it insular for hundreds of years and more recently, its people’s resilience in the face of huge adversity. One of my favourite ideas from Japanese culture is ‘wabi sabi’. The concept that nothing lasts forever and everything is imperfect. I also wanted to find out how the historical blending of Shinto and Buddhist faiths – a heady mix of natural spiritual mythology and stoic advice fit for modern life – created temples where two beliefs sat comfortably alongside each other.

The most powerful memories of my travels through Japan are marked by this cocktail of traditional wisdoms and their tangible impact on people and places.

I witnessed two hours of Sumo training. Powerful wrestlers of varied rankings undertaking a rhythmic thumping of the dust below them, that took on a ceremonial quality beyond the moving and sweat of human bodies. I hiked an old pilgrimage path on Miyajima Island, where tiny shinto shrines and buddhist effigies sat next to each other amid the trees. I spent time reflecting in Hiroshima’s Peace Park. Watching locals munch food under sakura blossom, in the eye-line of the Atomic Bomb Dome. Showing a collective inner fortitude that I couldn’t being to fathom.

I also found myself in situations where I had to search a little harder for inspiration. Like Arashiyama bamboo forest. A rolling wave of angry tourists sporting selfie sticks and moaning about each others’ presence as if they had expected to rediscover a hidden idyll a ten minute bus ride from the city. And Shibuya Starbucks, where visitors gather with bland coffees and tuna-melts, waiting for the lights to turn red at the famous crossing below so they can grab a photo for their socials.

Despite the tide of mass tourism turning specific sites into no-go zones, magical moments still outweighed my frustrations. On my nighttime walk around Kyoto’s famous Fushimi Inari shrine and its thousand bright red Tori gates, I was alone in the darkness and managed to spot wild boars. Less a spiritual awakening than a startled arousal! I was lucky enough to meet a Geisha in a quiet setting and ask questions about her life. In the mountains, I came close to physical contentment. Letting the powerful hose of my daily post-onsen shower pummel each muscle in turn after mornings spent amid tall pines with Nagano’s snow monkeys.

As if by design, my spring journey that I’d actually planned around the annual Formula One racing calendar, happily collided with full bloom of Japan’s cherry blossoms. In fact, as my high-speed train pulled into each new destination, the App reliably informed me I was within 24 hours of peak Sakura. Picnicking with friends and family under the blossom-heavy trees is known as Hanami. And it gave me the perfect opportunity to follow the locals to pristine parks, slow down and take it all in. A national institution, even snacks and drinks were themed Hanami-pink throughout my stay. I did enjoy a bit of kitsch-couture after all.

Dining out and taking away

I can’t rattle through a Japanese journey without mentioning its cuisine. It’s phenomenal. From steaming ramen bowls on cooler days to fresh onigiri as a light snack, every time I put something in my mouth it was a travel experience all of its own.

Japan has a reputation as an expensive foodie holiday and you could spend every evening eating at Michelin star venues but it’s unnecessary. I treated myself to a few highly rated restaurant meals. A wagyu tasting menu and onsen-style dining at Kanbayashi Hotel Senjukaku. Although most of the time I ate delicious, great value food on the go. Konbini (convenience store) sushi, salads and fruit were very high quality. Ekibens (food boxes showcasing local produce at train stations) were a great option to take on day trips. While street vending machines selling everything from coffee to hot sauce, became a daily staple.

Overall, snacking little and often was a fabulous way of sampling a wide range of produce, while not blowing the budget. Eat what you like, when you like – just don’t eat in the street and take your rubbish with you.

My Japan

What Japan became to me it will never be to you. Moving with characteristic Shinkansen efficiency along a beaten path, I found small moments that were my own. Minutes where I thought I had started to understand its complexities before it threw me another of its mysterious quirks. I suppose this is why no one ever visits just once; and why a beginner’s route works.

I never did break beyond its quintessential aesthetic on my first encounter but it didn’t really matter. After all, nothing is perfect. Wabi Sabi, as they say…