A Journey to Hydrangeas: Visiting the World’s Most Famous Hydrangea Growing Regions

The hydrangea, with its cloud-like flower clusters and astonishing ability to change color, has become a beloved treasure in gardeners’ hearts worldwide. My quest to explore these magnificent shrubs took me across four continents, from the Asian homelands where hydrangeas originated to the places where they found new life in Western horticulture. This nine-month journey revealed a story of adaptation, innovation, and the eternal pursuit of beauty that is both humble and spectacular.

Japan: The Spiritual Home of Hydrangeas

My journey began in June in Japan, during the rainy season—that humid, melancholic period when cherry blossoms have long faded and summer heat has yet to arrive. This is hydrangea season, and the Japanese call these flowers “ajisai” (紫陽花). They bloom throughout the archipelago, transforming temple courtyards, country lanes, and urban parks into seas of blue, purple, and pink.

Kamakura: Temple Hydrangeas

My first stop was Kamakura, an ancient capital an hour southwest of Tokyo, famous for its hydrangea temples. Meigetsu-in, commonly called the “Hydrangea Temple,” becomes a pilgrimage site in mid-June. When I arrived in the morning, visitor queues already wound along the narrow path leading to the temple, everyone patiently waiting to enter this Zen sanctuary surrounded by twenty-five hundred hydrangea plants.

Head monk Mr. Tamura greeted me before the crowds arrived, allowing me to experience the garden in the tranquility of early morning. “Hydrangeas teach us about the nature of change,” he said in a soft voice as we walked beside stone steps lined with rows of mountain hydrangeas (Hydrangea macrophylla). “They change color with the soil, their hues shift with the seasons. They remind us that nothing is permanent, even things we believe unchanging.”

Meigetsu-in is renowned for its almost exclusive planting of blue hydrangeas—a deliberate choice reflecting the Zen aesthetic of simplicity and unity. The garden’s soil is carefully maintained at an acidic pH to ensure that deep sky blue, which the Japanese call “Meigetsu-in blue.” The effect is breathtaking: thousands of identically-hued flowers create an almost otherworldly atmosphere, like walking through low-hanging clouds.

Mr. Tamura showed me the temple’s secret garden, open to the public only during hydrangea season. Here, a small pond is surrounded by different hydrangea varieties—not just the common mophead flowers, but also lacecap types (which the Japanese call “gaku-ajisai”), where sterile flowers form an outer ring surrounding a center cluster of fertile flowers. “Our ancestors preferred these simpler forms,” he explained. “They’re closer to wild hydrangeas, more humble. The large mophead flowers are a later development, when Westerners began hybridizing these plants.”

I spent three days in Kamakura, visiting other hydrangea temples: Hase-dera, where hydrangeas grow on hillsides overlooking the ocean, creating stunning views of blue flowers contrasting against the deep blue Pacific; and Jōjuin, where stone steps are flanked by hundreds of hydrangeas, forming a floral corridor leading to higher ground. Each temple planted hydrangeas differently, but all with the same intent: to create spaces for reflection, beauty, and connection with nature.

Hakone: Wild Hydrangeas

From Kamakura, I traveled to Hakone, a mountain region famous for its hot springs, views of Mount Fuji, and—in June—its wild hydrangeas. The Hakone Wetlands Garden specializes in plants that love moist conditions, including an extensive collection of native hydrangea species.

Horticulturist Ms. Sato walked me through the grounds, pointing out species most Western gardeners have never seen. Mountain hydrangeas grow here in their wild form, clustered at forest edges with flowers smaller but more delicate than cultivated varieties. “These are the ancestors of all large garden hydrangeas,” Ms. Sato explained, touching a lacecap flower. “Dutch and German breeders took these plants from Japan in the 1800s and created hundreds of new varieties. But to me, these simple native forms remain the most beautiful.”

She showed me other Japanese native hydrangeas: H. serrata, a smaller, more delicate species growing at higher mountain elevations; the Japanese cousin of oakleaf hydrangea (H. quercifolia); and climbing hydrangea (H. petiolaris), a vine that can climb trees for dozens of feet. Japan possesses the world’s richest diversity of native hydrangea species, and this garden serves as a living museum preserving the genetic heritage these plants have formed over millions of years.

We stopped at the garden’s traditional tea house, where lunch had been prepared. As Ms. Sato poured tea, she spoke about hydrangeas’ place in Japanese culture. “They’re inseparable from the rainy season,” she said. “When everything else is damp, gray, and uncomfortable, hydrangeas bloom, reminding us that beauty can be found even in the most melancholic weather. They symbolize resilience and adaptability.”

Tokyo: Urban Hydrangea Innovation

Back in Tokyo, I visited several specialty nurseries focusing on hydrangeas, where modern breeding is creating stunning new varieties. At a nursery in Setagaya, breeder Mr. Yamamoto showed me his life’s work: developing hydrangeas with unique colors and flower forms.

His greenhouses were filled with experimental plants—some with almost black deep purple flowers, others with vivid lime-green blooms, and some with striped or edged petals that looked as if carefully painted with a brush. “Hydrangea hybridization is a long process,” Mr. Yamamoto explained, leading me through his breeding area. “From crossing to seeing the first flower can take five years. Then it takes more years to stabilize the variety, ensuring it remains true under different conditions.”

He showed me his latest success: a variety called “Ginga” (Galaxy), whose flowers gradient from deep blue to silvery white, creating a starry sky effect. “I spent twelve years developing this variety,” he said proudly. “But when I first saw it bloom, I knew it was worth it.”

Japanese breeders have also pioneered so-called “magical” hydrangea series—varieties that change color as flowers mature, not due to soil pH but as part of their genetic programming. A single flower might start green, turn pink, then red, and finally deep burgundy, all within a few weeks. The effect is mesmerizing, creating a living kaleidoscope of colors on a single plant.

I also visited Kamo Nursery in Odawara, one of the world’s largest hydrangea producers, growing over one million plants annually. The scale here is incredible: greenhouses extending for acres, each filled with potted hydrangeas at different growth stages. The operation is more about science and timing than contemplative beauty—using precise temperature control, lighting schedules, and hormone treatments to force plants to bloom on specific dates for holidays and events.

Yet even in this industrial environment, I found genuine appreciation for hydrangeas. Production manager Mr. Kato told me as we walked through cooling rooms where plants were in artificial hibernation, “You never get tired of hydrangeas. I see thousands of plants every day, but when a new variety blooms for the first time, I still stop in wonder. They have a quality that always surprises you.”

Korea: Wild Hydrangea Heritage

Leaving Japan, I traveled west to Korea, which has its own rich native hydrangea tradition. Korean hydrangeas (H. serrata var. coreana) grow in the country’s mountainous regions, particularly on Jeju Island, a volcanic island at the southern tip of the Korean Peninsula.

On Jeju, I met Professor Park, a botanist who has spent thirty years studying and documenting the island’s native hydrangea populations. We hiked along the slopes of Hallasan Mountain, where wild hydrangeas grow between rocky outcrops and forest edges. “Korean hydrangeas are hardier and more drought-tolerant than Japanese varieties,” Professor Park explained as we examined a cluster of plants with pale pink lacecap flowers. “They’ve adapted to harsher conditions—colder winters, hotter summers, less rainfall. This makes them valuable to breeders in other parts of the world.”

He showed me rare variants found only on Jeju—some with almost pure white flowers, others with deep purple blooms, and some with distinctively serrated leaf edges. “These populations represent thousands of years of evolution,” he said. “They contain genetic diversity found nowhere else in the world. We’re working to protect them, but development, climate change, and over-collection all pose threats.”

Professor Park took me to his research station, where he’s conducting a hydrangea conservation project. Small greenhouses were filled with seedlings grown from seeds and cuttings collected from the wild. “We’re creating a living gene bank,” he explained. “If wild populations disappear, we’ll at least preserve the genetic material. But our goal is to protect them in their natural habitat, where they belong.”

In Seoul, I visited the Korea National Arboretum, which has an impressive hydrangea collection including Korean natives and cultivated varieties from around the world. Curator Ms. Kim gave me a tour of the displays, explaining Korea’s ongoing hydrangea breeding efforts. “We start with an advantage from our native species,” she said. “They possess hardiness and adaptability not found elsewhere. Now Korean breeders are creating new varieties combining this resilience with the beauty of modern cultivars.”

She showed me several Korean hybrids, including ‘Jeju Stars’, a variety with unusually large white sterile flowers, and ‘Hallasan Pink’, a variety that changes from deep pink to pale purple. “We’re just beginning,” Ms. Kim said. “Japan has hundreds of years of hydrangea cultivation history. Korea is building our own tradition, but based on our unique genetic resources.”

France: European Love for Hydrangeas

Crossing to Europe, I found myself in Brittany, a region in northwestern France where love for hydrangeas approaches fanaticism. The maritime climate here—mild, humid, rarely experiencing temperature extremes—creates perfect conditions for hydrangeas, which grow in every garden, roadside, and public space.

Brittany: Hydrangea Culture

I arrived in Quimper, Brittany’s cultural center, in July when hydrangeas were at their peak. The city’s streets are lined with massive hydrangea shrubs, many reaching eight feet tall and covered in blue and pink flowers. Locals told me that hydrangeas are as much a part of Breton identity as crêpes and cider.

I met Marie-Claude at the Shamrock Garden, a private garden housing a collection of over three hundred hydrangea varieties. Marie-Claude, a retired teacher, began collecting hydrangeas thirty years ago, and now her property has become a pilgrimage site for plant enthusiasts. “Hydrangeas grow perfectly in Brittany,” she explained in rapid French, leading me through her garden. “Our soil is naturally acidic, our climate stays cool and moist. We don’t have to work hard to grow hydrangeas that make gardeners elsewhere envious.”

Her collection was stunning—not just standard large-leaf hydrangeas, but also panicle hydrangeas (H. paniculata), whose conical white flowers turn pink and burgundy as the season ends; oakleaf hydrangeas (H. quercifolia), whose deeply-lobed leaves turn brilliant red and orange in autumn; and mountain hydrangeas (H. serrata), a small, delicate Japanese species with refined lacecap flowers.

“Every hydrangea has its own personality,” Marie-Claude said, stopping before a massive plant with lime-green flowers. “This is ‘Limelight’, a panicle hydrangea variety. It starts green, turns white, then becomes pink as it ages. Beautiful all through summer and fall.”

She showed me her most treasured specimen: an ancient hydrangea her grandmother planted in the 1950s. The plant had grown into an enormous mound, ten feet wide, covered with hundreds of blue flowers every summer. “When I tend it, I think of my grandmother’s hands planting it, of my mother bringing me to see it when I was small,” Marie-Claude said, her voice softening. “This plant will outlive me. It will outlive my children. It’s living family history.”

Brittany is also home to several important hydrangea nurseries. I visited Pépinières Shamrock, a family business specializing in rare and unusual varieties. Owner Jean-Pierre has spent forty years collecting and propagating hydrangeas, and his catalog contains over two hundred varieties, many unavailable elsewhere in Europe.

“French gardeners are serious about hydrangeas,” Jean-Pierre told me, walking me through his growing fields. “They want new varieties, unusual colors, special forms. This pushes us to constantly search for the next great hydrangea.” He showed me his latest introductions: varieties from American breeders, new hybrids from Japan, and his own experimental crosses.

Jean-Pierre also explained the science behind hydrangea color. “Most people think it’s just about pH,” he said. “Acidic soil produces blue flowers, alkaline soil produces pink flowers. That’s true, but it’s more complex than that. What really matters is aluminum availability. In acidic soil, aluminum is more readily absorbed by the plant, and it interacts with pigments in the flowers to produce blue. In alkaline soil, aluminum is locked up, and flowers become pink or red.”

He showed me how he manipulates color—adding aluminum sulfate to soil to promote blues, adding lime to promote pinks. “But some varieties change more easily than others,” he warned. “And white and green hydrangeas don’t change color at all—they lack the pigments that produce pinks and blues.”

Normandy: Historic Gardens

Traveling east from Brittany to Normandy, I visited several historic gardens where hydrangeas have been growing for over a century. At Monet’s Garden in Giverny, hydrangeas grow along the edges of the artist’s famous water garden, their soft blues and pinks complementing the water lilies and willows.

The garden manager told me that Monet himself planted some of these hydrangeas, appreciating their soft, almost impressionistic quality of the flowers. “Monet’s interest in light and color extended to his garden,” she explained. “He carefully selected plants for specific color effects, and hydrangeas provided that soft, hazy blue he couldn’t find elsewhere.”

At the Shamrock Garden near Varengeville-sur-Mer—unrelated to the one I visited in Brittany—I found one of Europe’s most impressive hydrangea collections. This clifftop garden overlooks the English Channel, and in August sea fog, hundreds of hydrangeas create an otherworldly beauty.

The garden’s founders have passed away, but the current custodian continues their work, maintaining and expanding the collection. “The hydrangeas create an incredible contrast with the ocean here,” she told me as we stood at the cliff edge, massive blue hydrangeas framing the seascape in the foreground. “In the sea fog, you can barely tell where the flowers end and the mist begins. It’s magical.”

England: Victorian Legacy

Crossing the Channel to England, I discovered a hydrangea tradition deeply influenced by Victorian gardeners who first introduced these plants from Asia in the 1800s. England’s climate—mild but changeable—creates both challenges and opportunities for hydrangeas.

Cornwall: Acid Soil Paradise

My first stop was Cornwall, England’s most southwestern county, where acidic soil and mild maritime climate create ideal conditions for hydrangeas. Trewithen Gardens, a grand estate, houses one of the country’s finest hydrangea collections.

Head gardener James walked me through the grounds, explaining Cornwall’s special attraction for hydrangeas. “Our soil is naturally acidic, which means we get the most beautiful blues effortlessly,” he said. “But we also have a mild climate with rarely any frost, so tender varieties like H. aspera and H. sargentiana can grow outdoors without protection.”

He showed me Trewithen’s star attraction: a massive H. aspera ‘Macrophylla’ growing in the woodland garden. The plant stood over fifteen feet tall, its large velvety leaves creating a tropical effect. In late summer, it’s covered with enormous lacecap flower clusters, pink sterile flowers surrounding pale purple fertile flowers.

“This is one of the most spectacular hydrangeas we can grow in England,” James said proudly. “It comes from China and needs protection from the harshest weather, but in the right spot, it’s breathtaking.”

Cornwall is also home to many smaller specialty nurseries. I visited Burncoose Nurseries, a family business that has been growing hydrangeas for over a century. The current owner, Charles, a horticulturist, showed me their trial grounds where hundreds of varieties are planted for evaluation.

“We test everything here,” Charles explained. “England’s climate can be tricky—mild but damp, with occasional cold winters. We need to know which varieties are reliable and which only perform well occasionally.” He showed me his notes—decades of observations recorded in worn notebooks, documenting bloom times, hardiness, disease resistance, and overall vigor.

London: Urban Gardens

In London, I found hydrangeas adapted to urban life, thriving in small city gardens, parks, and even containers. The London Hydrangea Society hosts open days at various members’ gardens each summer, and I was fortunate to attend several.

In a small urban garden in Islington, I met Sarah, who had collected over forty hydrangea varieties in less than thirty square meters of space. “You don’t need a large country estate to grow hydrangeas,” she told me enthusiastically. “They perform excellently in containers, and many varieties stay compact. The key is choosing the right varieties for your space.”

Her garden was a masterpiece of small-space gardening—climbing hydrangeas on walls, compact varieties like ‘Little Lime’ and ‘Bobo’ in containers, tall panicle hydrangeas providing height in the back. Every plant was carefully pruned and tended to maximize the limited space.

Roger, president of the London Hydrangea Society, invited me to his garden in Surrey, where he maintains part of the British National Hydrangea Collection. His property contains over five hundred varieties, all documented and labeled for reference.

“We’re working to preserve hydrangea diversity,” Roger explained as we walked through rows of plants. “Many old varieties are disappearing, replaced by fashionable new introductions. But these old varieties contain genetic diversity that may be important for future breeding. Our job is to ensure they’re not lost.”

He showed me some rare treasures: Victorian-era varieties nearly impossible to find for decades; old varieties brought from Japan never widely distributed; and experimental hybrids never named or released but possessing unique characteristics that might be valuable to breeders.

United States: Diverse Landscapes

Crossing the Atlantic to America, I discovered a completely different hydrangea world. America’s vastness and diverse climates have created countless microclimates, each with its own approach to hydrangea cultivation.

The Southeast: Home of Native Hydrangeas

My American journey began in Georgia, where several native hydrangea species grow in the wild. In the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, I hiked through forests where wild oakleaf hydrangeas grow along streams and hillsides.

My guide, Forest Service botanist Dr. Jessica, explained that oakleaf hydrangea (H. quercifolia) is endemic to the southeastern United States. “They extend from Georgia and Alabama all the way to northern Florida,” she said as we examined a cluster of flowering plants. “Here they grow in partial shade, in river corridors and mountain canyons where soil stays moist.”

Wild oakleaf hydrangeas differ from cultivated varieties—more open, more irregular, but with a delicate elegance. Their leaves—deeply lobed, shaped like oak leaves—turn magnificent shades of deep red and purple in autumn. The flowers, white panicles, open in summer and turn pink as they age.

“Oakleaf hydrangeas are an important part of our native landscape,” Jessica explained. “They provide food and shelter for wildlife, their root systems help stabilize stream banks. But they’re also threatened by habitat loss and over-collection. People dig them from the wild to plant in gardens, which damages wild populations.”

She took me to a Georgia State University research station where scientists are studying oakleaf hydrangea conservation. “We’re mapping wild populations, assessing genetic diversity, and working with nurseries to ensure garden plants are propagated, not wild-collected,” she said. “We’re also studying how climate change is affecting their distribution. As temperatures rise, these plants may need to migrate north or to higher elevations to survive.”

Near Asheville, North Carolina, I visited the North Carolina Botanical Garden, which has an extensive collection of southeastern native hydrangeas. Horticulturist Michael showed me not only oakleaf hydrangeas but also smooth hydrangea (H. arborescens), a smaller shrub with white rounded flowers.

“Smooth hydrangea is our other important native species,” Michael explained, leading me to a cluster of blooming plants. “In the wild it grows at woodland edges and along streams, from New York all the way to Florida. The most famous cultivar is ‘Annabelle’, with huge white mophead flowers that have become mainstream in American gardens.”

He showed me newer smooth hydrangea varieties, including ‘Incrediball’, whose flower heads are even larger than ‘Annabelle’, and ‘Invincibelle Spirit’, the first pink-flowering smooth hydrangea, developed through years of selective breeding.

“These native hydrangeas are particularly valuable to American gardeners because they’re adapted to our climate,” Michael said. “They’re hardy, tolerate heat and humidity, and don’t require much maintenance. They also support native wildlife—bees and other pollinators love the flowers.”

The Northeast: New England Gardens

Traveling north to New England, I discovered a completely different approach to hydrangea cultivation. The cold winters here create challenges, but the region’s gardeners have learned to select and care for varieties that can withstand harsh conditions.

On Nantucket Island in Massachusetts, hydrangeas have become an iconic part of the island landscape. Gray-shingled houses flanked by massive blue hydrangea shrubs create views that have almost become postcard clichés. Yet as I explored the island, I discovered deep history behind this tradition.

I met Martha at the island’s historical association, where she studies Nantucket’s horticultural history. “Hydrangeas came to Nantucket in the 1800s, probably brought by whaling captains returning from Asia,” she explained. “They thrived here—the maritime climate stays cool and moist, the soil is naturally acidic. Soon every household wanted hydrangeas. They became part of island identity.”

She took me on tours of several historic properties where hydrangeas have been growing for over a century. At a house built in the 1850s, the garden had a hydrangea said to be descended from the original plant, one of the first introduced to the island.

“Nantucketers are very serious about their hydrangeas,” Martha laughed. “There are stories about competition between gardens, who has the bluest, largest hydrangeas. People would share secret recipes for achieving perfect color—what to add to soil, when to prune, how to protect plants from winter damage.”

In Vermont, I visited Brent and Becky’s Bulbs, a nursery specializing in plants suited to cold climates. Though known for bulbs, they’ve also taken an interest in hydrangeas, particularly varieties that can survive in Zone 3 or even Zone 4 climates.

“Growing hydrangeas in Vermont has always been tricky,” Brent told me, walking me through their trial grounds. “Many popular large-leaf hydrangea varieties bloom on old wood, which means if winter kills the stems, you get no flowers. But now we have varieties that bloom on new wood—the Endless Summer series, the Let’s Dance series—that will flower even if the tops die back in winter.”

He showed me other hardy varieties: panicle hydrangeas, which can tolerate temperatures to -40°F; smooth hydrangeas (H. arborescens), which regrow from the ground in spring and flower in summer; and some newer hybrids combining hardiness from different species.

“Cold-climate gardening is changing,” Brent said. “Breeders are now focusing on creating plants for regions like ours. We don’t have to envy southern gardeners—we can have beautiful hydrangeas, they’re just different varieties.”

Pacific Northwest: Perfect Climate

My American journey culminated in the Pacific Northwest, where the climate—mild, rainy, rarely experiencing temperature extremes—creates near-perfect conditions for hydrangeas. In Portland, Oregon, hydrangeas grow in every neighborhood, from small urban gardens to large public spaces like the Japanese Garden and International Rose Test Garden.

I met with Sean, owner of a Portland nursery specializing in rare and unusual hydrangea varieties. His property is a hydrangea lover’s paradise, containing hundreds of varieties, many brought back from collecting trips to Japan, Korea, and Europe.

“The Pacific Northwest may be the best place in America to grow hydrangeas,” Sean said enthusiastically. “Our climate mimics their native habitat—cool summers, mild winters, year-round rainfall. We can grow almost any hydrangea species in the world.”

He showed me highlights of his collection: rare species from China like H. heteromalla, a tall species with white panicle flowers; various forms of H. aspera, each with subtle differences; and H. anomala, a climbing species similar to the more common climbing hydrangea but with more delicate flowers.

Sean also introduced me to the Pacific Northwest hydrangea community—a group of passionate collectors who share plants, knowledge, and enthusiasm through nursery visits, plant swaps, and online forums. “There are some serious hydrangea nerds here,” he laughed. “They’ll drive hours to see a new variety, they can argue for hours about subtle differences between two seemingly identical varieties. It’s a wonderful community.”

In Seattle, I visited the University of Washington Botanic Garden, which houses the Pacific Northwest Hydrangea Collection. Curator Dr. Sarah showed me their grounds, explaining the collection’s conservation importance.

“We preserve many varieties no longer commercially available here,” she said. “Old varieties, failed hybrids, species collections from the wild—all represent valuable genetic diversity. If some future breeder needs a specific trait, perhaps disease resistance or unusual flower color, they can come here to find it.”

She also spoke about climate change’s potential impact on Pacific Northwest hydrangeas. “Our summers are getting hotter and drier,” she said. “This stresses hydrangeas, which prefer cool and moist. We may need to rethink how we grow them—more shade, more irrigation, selecting more drought-tolerant varieties.”

California: Challenges and Adaptation

Traveling south to California, I discovered a dramatically different story. California’s hot, dry climate poses significant challenges for hydrangeas, plants evolved from shady, moist forest environments. Yet California gardeners have found ways to make these plants thrive in unlikely conditions.

In San Francisco, sea fog and mild temperatures create a microclimate suitable for hydrangeas. Golden Gate Park contains several large specimens, and I met horticulturist Dave, who tends the park’s hydrangea collection.

“In San Francisco we can grow many varieties, thanks to the fog,” Dave explained. “But even here, summer can be tricky. We need to provide supplemental water, and we must ensure plants have afternoon shade. It’s not as easy as the Pacific Northwest, but it’s possible.”

In Southern California, the challenges are greater. I visited the Huntington Library and Gardens in Pasadena, where horticulturists are experimenting with growing hydrangeas in a desert climate. “It’s all about creating microclimates,” the garden director told me. “We plant hydrangeas in deep shade, near water features, in areas with higher humidity. We use heavy mulch to keep soil cool and moist. And we select the most heat-tolerant varieties—mainly oakleaf and panicle hydrangeas, which tolerate heat better than large-leaf varieties.”

The results were impressive but maintenance-intensive. Each plant required regular deep watering, careful monitoring of soil moisture, and protection from afternoon sun. “It’s not for everyone,” she admitted. “There are many beautiful plants easier to grow in Southern California. But for those who truly love hydrangeas, the extra effort is worth it.”

China: Back to Origins

The final leg of my journey took me back to Asia, specifically China, where dozens of hydrangea species grow in the wild. China is the center of hydrangea diversity, with many of the world’s most spectacular species found only in Chinese mountains.

Sichuan: Species Diversity

I flew to Chengdu, then traveled west into the Sichuan mountains, where high-altitude forests contain extraordinary plant diversity. I hiked with Professor Chen, a botanist from the Chinese Academy of Sciences who has spent his life studying China’s wild hydrangeas.

“China has the most hydrangea species in the world,” Professor Chen explained as we climbed steep mountain trails. “Possibly thirty species or more, many not yet fully studied. They grow in mountain forests, often in hard-to-reach areas, so we’re still discovering new populations, sometimes even new species.”

We reached a forest clearing where large hydrangea shrubs grew between moss-covered rocks. The flowers were enormous—individual lacecap flower clusters a foot across, pink sterile flowers surrounding pale purple fertile flowers. The leaves were huge, velvety, covered with fine hairs that felt almost like suede to the touch.

“This is H. aspera subsp. robusta,” Professor Chen said. “One of our most spectacular hydrangea species. In the wild, these plants can grow twenty feet tall. They grow at forest edges where they get some sun but are protected from the harshest weather.”

Over the following days, Professor Chen showed me other species: H. xanthoneura, a small species with white flowers and dark leaves; H. heteromalla, a tall species with elegant white panicle flowers; and H. sargentiana, possibly the most impressive of all hydrangeas, with enormous velvety leaves and huge lacecap flowers.

“These plants represent millions of years of evolution,” Professor Chen said. “They’ve adapted to the specific conditions of these mountain forests—cool temperatures, high humidity, partial shade. The genetic diversity they contain could be invaluable to breeders, but many species are threatened by habitat loss.”

He took me to a research station where scientists are working to document and protect China’s hydrangea diversity. Small nurseries were filled with seedlings grown from seeds collected in the wild, each carefully labeled with its origin and characteristics.

“We’re creating a living collection,” Professor Chen explained. “If wild populations disappear, we’ll at least preserve the genetic material. But more importantly, we’re working to protect the forests where these plants grow. Without habitat, there are no hydrangeas.”

Yunnan: Plant Hunter’s Paradise

From Sichuan, I traveled south to Yunnan, a province famous for its extraordinary plant diversity. Here I joined a team of Chinese and international botanists on a plant expedition documenting the region’s hydrangea species.

We hiked through high-altitude forests, mist wrapping around trees, the ground covered in thick layers of moss. Hydrangeas were everywhere—not large cultivated shrubs but small, delicate wild plants, often with flower clusters only a few inches across.

“These are the primitive forms of the genus,” explained Dr. James, a British botanist on the expedition. “When most people think of hydrangeas, they imagine those huge mophead flowers. But in the wild, most species have much smaller flowers, usually lacecap form. Human selection and breeding created the large flowers we see in gardens.”

We found several rare species, including H. longipes, a small species with pale pink flowers, and H. kawakamii, a rare plant found only in China and Taiwan. The team carefully documented each find—photographing, collecting specimens, recording GPS coordinates and habitat details.

“This work is crucial for conservation,” Dr. James said. “We need to know where these species grow, how healthy their populations are, what threats they face. Only then can we develop effective conservation strategies.”

The expedition also had a commercial aspect. The team included several representatives from European and American nurseries looking for new species or varieties that might be suitable for cultivation. Any material collected from the wild would be done with proper permits from Chinese authorities, with a portion of proceeds supporting conservation efforts.

“It’s a balance between conservation and commerce,” Dr. James explained. “If we can find plants with horticultural value, it creates economic incentive to conserve their habitat. But it must be done responsibly, sustainably, respecting local communities and the environment.”

Australia: Southern Hemisphere Adventures

From China, I traveled south to Australia, where I found gardeners working to adapt these Northern Hemisphere plants to Southern Hemisphere conditions. Australia’s climate—often hot and dry—poses significant challenges for hydrangeas, but in certain regions, dedicated gardeners have achieved remarkable success.

Blue Mountains: Australia’s Hydrangea Capital

I arrived in the Blue Mountains of New South Wales, a mountain region west of Sydney where cool temperatures and higher rainfall create conditions suitable for hydrangeas. The town of Leura has become Australia’s hydrangea capital, hosting an annual Hydrangea Festival each spring (November to December in the Southern Hemisphere).

When I arrived, the festival was in full swing. Gardens opened to the public, nurseries set up stalls, and local cafes offered hydrangea-themed menu items. Every garden in town seemed filled with hydrangeas, from classic blue and pink mopheads to more unusual varieties.

I met Margaret, a local hydrangea expert who started the festival thirty years ago. “Back then, hydrangeas weren’t popular in Australia,” she recalled. “They were seen as old-fashioned, outdated. But I loved them, and I wanted to share that love with others. So we started the festival, and now it attracts thousands of visitors each year.”

She took me through her garden, a hydrangea masterpiece containing over one hundred varieties. “Growing hydrangeas in the Blue Mountains requires some adjustment,” she explained. “Our summers can be hot even at this elevation, so we need to provide plenty of shade and water. But our winters are cold enough for proper dormancy, which is essential for many varieties.”

Margaret also introduced me to the Australian hydrangea community, a group of passionate gardeners who stay connected through online forums, garden visits, and plant swaps. “We’re learning what works in Australian conditions,” she said. “It’s not the same as growing hydrangeas in Europe or Japan. We have to adapt to our climate, find varieties and techniques that work for us.”

Melbourne: Urban Gardening

In Melbourne, I found hydrangeas had become popular urban garden plants, particularly in the city’s cooler, damper suburbs. I visited several show gardens, including the Royal Botanic Gardens, which has a small but carefully curated hydrangea collection.

Garden curator Andrew explained the challenges of growing hydrangeas in Melbourne. “Our climate is temperate, but we can have very hot summers,” he said. “Hydrangeas struggle during heat waves—their leaves wilt, flowers shrivel. The key is selecting more heat-tolerant varieties and ensuring they’re protected from afternoon sun.”

He showed me varieties performing well in Melbourne: panicle hydrangeas, which tolerate heat and sun better than large-leaf varieties; oakleaf hydrangeas, adapted to a wide range of conditions; and some newer hybrids specifically bred for warm climates.

“Australian hydrangea gardening is still evolving,” Andrew said. “We’re learning what works and what doesn’t. But interest is growing. More and more people are discovering these beautiful plants and finding ways to makethem work in our climate.”

South Africa: Unexpected Success

The final stop of my journey brought me to South Africa, where I discovered a small but passionate hydrangea community. South Africa’s climate—often warm and dry—seems unsuitable for these cool-climate plants, but in certain regions, particularly around Cape Town and in the eastern highlands, gardeners are successfully growing hydrangeas.

In Cape Town, I met Susan, a horticulturist specializing in growing temperate plants in South African conditions. “Cape Town has a Mediterranean climate,” she explained. “Mild, wet winters and hot, dry summers. This isn’t ideal for hydrangeas, but if you provide the right conditions, they can thrive.”

She took me through her demonstration garden, where hydrangeas were planted in deep shade, provided by mature trees, and regularly irrigated. “The key is creating microclimates,” she said. “We need to protect them from hot summer sun, and we need to ensure the soil never completely dries out. It takes work, but the results are worth it.”

In the Eastern Cape, I visited several gardens where higher rainfall and cooler temperatures create more suitable conditions for hydrangeas. In the mountain village of Hogsback, hydrangeas grow in many gardens, their blue and pink flowers contrasting against the deep green of the surrounding forests.

Local gardener John took me through his property, where he had collected dozens of hydrangea varieties. “In Hogsback, we have a climate more similar to England or New Zealand,” he said. “Cool, moist, often foggy. Hydrangeas love it here. We can grow varieties that struggle in other parts of South Africa.”

His garden was testament to hydrangea possibilities—enormous specimens covered in abundant flowers, lush healthy foliage. “People come to Hogsback and are amazed to see hydrangeas growing so beautifully in Africa,” John laughed. “But we have the right conditions. It’s just a matter of knowing how to use them.”

Reflections: A Global Flower

Standing in John’s garden, surrounded by hydrangeas, I thought about the journey that brought me here. From Japanese temples to French châteaux, from American wild forests to remote Chinese mountains, I had seen how these extraordinary plants have adapted, evolved, and found new homes.

The story of hydrangeas is one of adaptation and resilience. From their origins in Asia, they have spread worldwide, adopted by gardeners in different cultures, each bringing their own aesthetics and techniques to their cultivation. The Japanese use them to create contemplative spaces. The French weave them into romantic garden borders. Americans celebrate their native species and develop new hybrids. In every place, hydrangeas tell a different story.

But amid all the diversity, certain themes remain constant. In every region, I found dedicated gardeners—professionals and amateurs—fascinated by these plants’ beauty and possibilities. I met breeders devoted to creating new varieties, conservationists working to protect wild species, and collectors spending decades pursuing rare and unusual forms.

I also saw the challenges hydrangeas face. Climate change is altering conditions in their traditional growing regions, making cultivation more difficult in some places while opening new possibilities in others. Habitat loss threatens wild species, particularly in China and other Asian countries where forests are being cleared for agriculture and development. Genetic diversity is declining as commercial production focuses on a few popular varieties while rare forms disappear.

Yet I remain optimistic. The hydrangea community—gardeners, breeders, scientists, enthusiasts—is vibrant and committed to these plants’ future. New varieties are being developed to adapt to changing conditions. Conservation efforts are protecting wild species. Knowledge is spreading globally through books, websites, social media, and personal connections.

Hydrangeas teach us about change—their flowers change color with soil, their hues shift with seasons, their forms evolve with age. They remind us that beauty is not fixed or permanent but fluid and adaptive. They show us that even in the most unlikely places—a desert garden, a mountain forest, an urban balcony—beauty can flourish if we’re willing to create the right conditions and provide necessary care.

In every garden I visited, whether a quiet Japanese temple, a grand French estate, or an American suburban backyard, I saw the same fundamental truth: gardening is an act of hope. When we plant a hydrangea, we invest in the future, trusting that the plant will grow, bloom, and bring joy to generations to come. We create beauty not only for ourselves but for those who will follow—those who will admire these flowers long after we’re gone.

Hydrangeas, with their adaptability, diversity, and enduring beauty, have become truly global flowers—grown on every continent, cherished by different cultures, constantly evolving to meet new challenges. Their journey from Asian mountain forests to gardens worldwide mirrors our own journey, our own capacity to explore, adapt, and find beauty wherever we are.

As I concluded my journey, I carried with me a deep appreciation not only for hydrangeas themselves but for the people who care for them—the gardeners, breeders, scientists, and enthusiasts who understand these extraordinary plants’ value and are committed to ensuring they continue to thrive for future generations. Their work reminds us that beauty is worth preserving, worth cultivating, worth sharing with the world.

In a world of rapid change and uncertainty, hydrangeas offer constancy. They return each year, blooming faithfully, adapting to conditions, surprising us with their variations and possibilities. They connect us to the past—to the gardeners who first cultivated them, to the plant hunters who brought them from distant mountains, to the countless individuals who have tended and loved them over centuries. And they connect us to the future—to the gardeners not yet born who will someday stand as I did, breathless before a bloom that represents not just botanical beauty but human dedication, patience, and the enduring belief that creating and preserving beauty matters, even in a changing world.

The hydrangea’s journey from wild mountain plant to beloved garden specimen spanning the globe is a testament to what happens when human appreciation meets natural beauty. In every blue mophead on a Nantucket cottage, every pink lacecap in a Kyoto temple, every massive aspera in a Cornish garden, I saw not just a plant but a story—of people who cared enough to bring these flowers into their lives, to learn their needs, to create conditions where they could thrive, and to pass that knowledge and love forward to the next generation.

My journey taught me that hydrangeas are more than ornamental plants. They are living connections between cultures, bridges between past and future, teachers of patience and adaptation. They remind us that beauty takes time to cultivate, that some things cannot be rushed, that the most rewarding results come from sustained attention and care. In our age of instant gratification and disposable everything, hydrangeas stand as gentle reminders that some things—the best things—require us to slow down, pay attention, and invest ourselves in processes that unfold on nature’s timeline, not ours.

As I write this, months after my final garden visit, I find myself thinking often of the people I met—Margaret in her Blue Mountains garden, Master Tamura in his temple, Marie-Claude tending her grandmother’s ancient plant, Professor Chen documenting endangered species in Chinese mountains. Each of them, in their own way, is ensuring that hydrangeas continue to bloom, continue to surprise and delight, continue to offer their quiet lessons about beauty, change, and resilience.

The world of hydrangeas is vast and varied, but it is united by a common thread: the belief that these flowers, in all their diversity and adaptability, represent something worth preserving and celebrating. Whether you encounter them in a misty Japanese garden, a sunny California yard, or anywhere in between, hydrangeas invite you to pause, observe, and appreciate the extraordinary beauty that emerges when human intention meets natural wonder. And that, ultimately, is the greatest gift these remarkable plants offer—not just their stunning flowers, but the reminder that beauty, carefully tended, can flourish almost anywhere.