The Cherry Blossoms of Washington, D.C.

If you've ever been to Washington, D.C. in late March or early April, you've likely noticed an abundance of cherry trees spreading their pink and white petals all over town—especially down around the Tidal Basin. These arboreal blossoms draw thousands upon thousands to the United States capital each year, with locals and tourists alike getting out to admire the city's surest sign that spring has arrived.

You probably know that these trees are native to Japan, where they are a cultural icon. But the story of how they came to decorate much of the D.C. cityscape isn't quite as commonly known. The rather fascinating tale is complete with a cast of characters from the early 20th century, diplomatic opportunity, a do-over, and a few plot advancements that took place decades after the story began.

A key figure in the effort to bring cherry trees to D.C. was David Fairchild, a food explorer with the U.S. Department of Agriculture.

By the early 1900s, Fairchild had already made a name for himself, having brought to the United States a number of previously-foreign-but-now-favorite plant species, among them avocados (from Chile), mangoes (from India), and peaches (from China).

While in Japan in 1902, Fairchild had his first encounter with the cherry tree. The centuries-old Japanese practice of hanami—which includes outdoor gatherings and parties each spring to admire the blossoming trees—struck a chord with the American explorer.

So, in 1908, Fairchild began campaigning for cherry trees to be an integral part of the effort to beautify areas of the nation's capital that, at the time, were considered eyesores.

President William Howard Taft saw cherry trees as a chance to improve diplomatic relations with Japan.

Fairchild, it’s worth noting, was not the first to suggest cherry trees be brought to the United States. In the late 1800s, Eliza Ruhamah Scidmore had made the same suggestion to U.S. Army officials, and had continued to suggest it for more than two decades, though up to that point no one had found the argument compelling.

Attitudes seemed to have changed when Fairchild raised the issue a few years later. By 1909, Fairchild and Scidmore had even found an ally for the cause in the first lady, Helen Taft. And her husband, President William Howard Taft, saw the proposal as a chance to improve diplomatic relations with Japan, which had been on rocky footing due to American prejudice against Japanese immigrants in the early 20th century.

The opportunity to cement an appreciation for its culture in the U.S. capital was too good for Japan to pass up. Yukio Ozaki, the mayor of Tokyo at the time, quickly set about finding 300 exemplary specimens of sakura, Japan’s flowering trees. But by the time the trees were loaded upon a U.S.-bound ship, 300 had become 2,000.

A month-long journey across the Pacific, though, took a toll on the fragile, densely packed trees. When inspected upon arrival, several types of diseases were found festering in the tree roots. Amid fears of importing new plant-plaguing diseases into the U.S., the trees were ultimately burned in late January, 1910.

When he heard the news, Ozaki promptly agreed to send another shipment of trees, this time with extra precautions taken to ensure their health upon delivery. A second ship departed for the U.S., this time carrying 3,000 trees, which passed inspection with flying colors.

Those wishing to see the original pair of trees planted in D.C. can find them near the end of 17th street SW.

Helen Taft and the Viscountess Chinda—the wife of the Japanese Ambassador to the U.S.—planted the first two cherry trees in a small ceremony on March 27, 1912. The remaining trees were planted around the Tidal Basin and in East Potomac Park, though the process of planting them all lasted through 1920.

Those wishing to see the original pair of trees can find them near the end of 17th street SW. Look for a bronze plaque beneath the trees to know you’ve found the right spot.

Several decades later, 3,800 more trees were gifted by Japan to another U.S. first lady, Lady Bird Johnson, to support her own efforts to beautify Washington. Today, many of these trees are planted around the grounds of the Washington Monument. Additional rounds of tree plantings have occurred intermittently since then, with the latest being a group of 400 planted from 2002-2006.

But the sending of trees has not been a one-way transaction. In 1915, after seeing how the American public had become smitten with the cherry trees, the U.S. government sent Japan a shipment of flowering dogwoods as a token of their gratitude.

An additional 3,800 trees were gifted by Japan to another U.S. first lady, Lady Bird Johnson.

Then, in 1982, Japanese horticulturalists took cuttings from the original 1912 trees back to Japan, helping preserve important genetic characteristics after many Japanese trees had been destroyed. Similar cuttings were again taken in 1997. This cyclical gifting is a testament to the relationship formed through the efforts of Fairchild, Scidmore, the Tafts, Ozaki, and others many years earlier.

With so many additional plantings, cherry trees are now found throughout the District of Columbia.

Some areas certainly boast a higher concentration of cherry trees than others, but in most places you won't have to wander too far before coming across at least one tree sporting the signature blossoms in springtime.

Not all trees will look the same, however. The District contains dozens of different types of cherry trees, each with its own distinct blossoms. The Yoshino variety is certainly the most common. You can identify it by its clusters of small white flowers and a somewhat almond scent.

Whether you're a D.C. native, or the city's spring bloom still sits unchecked on your bucket list, if you've made it this far you'll perhaps know a bit more about Washington's cherry blossoms than you did when you started reading. Still eager to learn more?  This story  from the Smithsonian can help satiate your curiosity: