Photo/Illutration The Shirakami-Sanchi beech forest began to develop some 8,000 years ago; “sanchi” is a collective term for a mountainous area. A walking path allows easy access to parts of the forest, which has a natural eco-system left in an undeveloped state. (Photo by Lisa Vogt)

In just about every pamphlet I obtained regarding Shirakami-Sanchi, I kept reading about Philipp Franz von Siebold’s beech, a native Japanese tree.

Siebold? I muttered to myself, “Who is this Siebold guy, well, I presume he’s a guy and not a woman. ...” It turns out that I did know him. Well, not personally.

Makino Mantaro, in the Japan Broadcasting Corp. (NHK) morning drama series “Ranman,” looks at drawings of Japanese plants by Siebold and exclaims that he can do a better job showcasing Japanese plants to the world.

He goes on to do so, but we must remember the foundations that the 19th-century German naturalist paved for those who came later.

Shirakami-Sanchi is a vast 130,000-hectare mountainous area extending from northwestern Akita to southwestern Aomori prefectures, and of this, 16,971 hectares in 1993 became one of Japan’s first World Heritage Sites.

With only a few hiking trails accessible to the public, Shirakami-Sanchi remains unspoiled for the most part by human activity.

Its pristine landscape is characterized by one of the world’s most extensive old-growth primeval beech forests. The forests started to emerge around 10,000 years ago, the end of the last glacial period, and the forest today is primarily unchanged from 8,000 years ago.

That was the Jomon Period when ancient humans started transitioning from hunting and gathering to farming in settlements.

Among the deciduous broad-leaved beech trees live Japanese serows (a Special Natural Treasure of Japan), black woodpeckers, majestic golden eagles, Asiatic moon bears, and many other mammals, birds and insects. And, of course, diverse flora and fauna, too.

Studio Ghibli’s "Princess Mononoke" was said to have been set in or inspired by Shirakami-Sanchi. Walking through the forest, I could sense the otherworldly aura of the place.

What’s so special about these beech trees, besides their being in a virgin environment? It turns out they’re the key to a timeless cycle of life. When it rains, the trees collect rainwater in their grooved leaves.

This water goes down the trunk and permeates the dense layer of fertile soil on the forest floor, adorned with layers of decomposed leaves and branches. The water holds, like a natural reservoir.

Then, it transforms into streams that provide sustenance to rice fields before flowing into the ocean, laden with the forest’s nutrients that nourish marine life.

It’s like Siebold’s botanical illustrations, which played an essential part in a cycle of study and nourishment for those that followed.

Shirakami-Sanchi reminds us of the profound interconnectedness of everything living.

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This article by Lisa Vogt, a Washington-born and Tokyo-based photographer, originally appeared in the March 3 issue of Asahi Weekly. It is part of the series "Lisa’s UNESCO World Heritage Sites in Japan," which depicts various parts of the country through the perspective of the author, a professor at Aoyama Gakuin University.