A Nanjing Local's View of Nanjing — ‘Tulip’ Encounter at the South Garden of Zhongshan Botanical Garden
Travel time: April 2021. Mode: cycling. Attraction: South Garden of Zhongshan Botanical Garden. Address: Mingling Road, Xuanwu District, Nanjing. Admission: 45 yuan. Garden route: Grass Garden – Aquatic Plant Garden – Tropical Plant Garden (Tropical Rainforest, Tropical Economic Plants, Orchid Exhibition, Succulents) – Crescent Dyke – Grass Garden.
A few years ago, while walking along the city wall, I came upon a clear lake at a bend – Qianhu Lake. In the background lay the undulating Zhongshan Mountain range. The scene, with its rolling hills, layered greenery, and shimmering lake, blended motion and stillness in a perfect quiet beauty. Nestled among the trees between the lake and Zhongshan Mountain, a few crystalline, shell-like buildings caught my eye. I checked a map and discovered they were the flower conservatories of Zhongshan Botanical Garden. That was when I learned the garden had expanded: the distinctive building on the north side of Qianhu Lake, begun in 1999 and opened to the public on National Day 2007, was the South Garden. When my child was little, we often went to the botanical garden – then just the North Garden – because a classmate’s mother worked there. Back then, the South Garden didn’t exist. As my child grew, we stopped visiting. I wouldn’t have known about the new garden if not for that distant view from the wall. I thought, ‘I should check out the South Garden sometime.’ Time slipped by unnoticed, and that thought lingered for a few more years.
During the three-day Qingming mini-holiday, afraid of traffic jams, I stayed home. But after a leisurely midday nap, I woke to brilliant sunshine. It seemed a shame not to go out. On a whim, I decided: the botanical garden! I hopped on my e-bike. Turning onto Linggu Temple Road, traffic and crowds of people flooded the road. The sidewalks and bike lanes were so packed I could barely ride. I wound through the Sun Yat-sen Mausoleum scenic area, along Linggu Temple Road, Youju West Road, Bo'ai Road, Lingyuan Road, Meihua Valley Road, and Zhiwuyuan Road. Cars were bumper-to-bumper, people looked anxious, and some tourists had given up and were walking. I felt smug on my e-bike. On such jammed streets, even cycling would have been difficult – but the e-bike’s advantage was obvious. The North Garden lies north of Zhiwuyuan Road, the South Garden south. Entry required a ticket. I arrived around three in the afternoon. Nanjing’s spring has that pulling power. The queues at the entrance and ticket booth stretched into the street. I couldn’t get a clear shot of the gate, so I didn’t bother with a photo – just lined up quickly. In April, medical staff with park cards still got in free. To the left of the entrance is the Grass Garden.
The pairing of dawn redwoods and February orchids is classic. February orchid is a common wildflower; Nanjing has famous spots, but more often they appear in unassuming corners – beside houses, under hedges, in woods, on hills, earthen slopes, lakeshores. Any space yields those small blue-purple blooms amid the green.
Sheltered by the redwoods, a vast patch of February orchids took on different moods and beauty as the light shifted.
I love their clean, subtle, slightly bohemian charm.
Towering redwoods reaching into the sky.
Opposite the Grass Garden, a huge sea of flowers. Red, yellow, white, purple... Tulips of every colour dazzled the eyes. In April, the garden becomes an ocean of tulips. I’d heard friends mention them but, with so many flowers in Nanjing, hadn’t rushed to see. Stumbling upon the season’s main attraction today was a delightful surprise.
Tulips peak in March; by now, they were nearing the end, their petals loosening. Still, the scale was visually stunning. Looking out, vast sweeps of tulips painted the garden in brilliant colours, vibrant and full of life.
Foreground: tulips in every hue. Midground: towering redwoods. Background: the lake and city wall – a naturally harmonious scene.
A riot of colours, like a fiery painting. Red, passionate; yellow, noble and rich; white, pure and elegant; and the orange of red-yellow blends, flaring like flames.
Huge flower carpets filled my vision. Each variety was planted in separate blocks, bright and vivid. Bands of colour surged like ocean waves, forming a sea of flowers. Under the sun, the tulips bloomed fragrantly, delicate and enchanting, intoxicatingly beautiful, making me want to linger.
Stems straight and graceful, petals reaching upward – so strong, spirited, and full of life.
A patch of purple tulips – a rare colour to see.
Pink-and-white tulips too.
Beautiful flowers, and the people even more so.
The joyful crowds moving through the garden added a dynamic element to the oil-painting-like scenery – a harmonious blend of movement and stillness.
By April, most tulip petals had relaxed, letting us see their ‘inner secrets’ more clearly.
The South Garden hugs the side of Qianhu Lake. Mid-lake, a crescent-shaped dyke splits the water into two parts: the large Qianhu Lake by the city wall, and the Crescent Pool right at our feet.
The garden makes use of Qianhu’s wide waters and fine natural surroundings to create beauty centred on aquatic plants. Glistening waves, aquatic and terrestrial vegetation, a rich variety – it drew us to stroll, admire, and lose ourselves.
Qianhu Lake and Crescent Pool, connected yet separate, have a meandering shoreline. The shallow waters along the bank are planted with reeds, wild rice shoots, sweet flag, and water scallions – emergent plants layered naturally, as if nature herself had arranged them with a wild charm.
To the north of Crescent Pool lies a marshy area where bald cypress, willows, sedges, and miscanthus form a wetland community, creating a lush, watery landscape.
Dawn redwoods, pines, cypresses, and many trees I couldn’t name. A multi-layered plant kingdom, both ornamental and scientific.
Through leaves, the lightly rippling Crescent Pool, the winding Crescent Dyke, the distant shimmering Qianhu Lake, and the ancient, towering, formidable Ming City Wall of Nanjing. Set among mountains, water, city, and forests, Zhongshan Botanical Garden is well worth a visit.
At the northern end of the Crescent Dyke sits a small boat overflowing with flowers and plants.
From this angle at the northern part of Crescent Pool, the scenery is lively and graceful. The dyke’s flowing line stretches out, and the wall’s curve runs alongside the water, enclosing a perfectly rounded composition.
Looking north from the Crescent Dyke, those leaf-shaped glass houses are the garden’s Tropical Plant Palace. From this angle, the buildings also resemble a ship cutting through the waves of a great sea.
Walking along the dyke to the shore of Qianhu Lake, I saw more clearly that special steel-frame section of the Ming City Wall. In the early 1990s, this stretch of wall collapsed under lake water erosion and heavy rain, leaving a gap sixty or seventy metres wide. In August 2014, a light steel pedestrian bridge was built over the breach, reconnecting the eastern section after more than 20 years – an innovative conservation measure for the wall.
This small bridge leads to those glass houses – the Tropical Plant Palace.
In front of the Tropical Plant Palace is a large square, still a tapestry of flowers and lush vegetation. Colours merged into a painting.
The tulips here were younger than those near the entrance, their petals tightly cupped like wine glasses. Like buds about to bloom, but when looked at closely, they were open, revealing stamens wrapped in pollen – a sense of restrained beauty.
The tulips’ slender forms looked elegant and free of vulgarity.
On the little hillock, blossom ran riot, filling our view, tempting you to tumble into its embrace and get drunk on spring.
Crowds filled the square, many families out together. The botanical garden also serves as a popular science base, so lots of children were playing and exploring.
The glass house here is the garden’s iconic building.
Different angles give different impressions – doesn’t this view resemble a stealth aircraft?
Colourful tulips dotted the hillock, spread like carpets around a tree, edged the lake dancing in the breeze, or appeared as scattered accents among other plants.
Multihued, brilliantly coloured tulips decorated the garden with extraordinary beauty.
After visiting several exhibitions inside the Tropical Plant Palace, I paused at the small square.
On the lakeside rocks, couples or families sat quietly, just as I was, absorbing the scene before us.
Here one could gaze at the Ming City Wall on the south side of Qianhu Lake.
From different angles, that scene of mountains, water, city and forest.
In the middle of Qianhu Lake, a dyke wound like a crescent moon.
Colourful little boats on the lake added more colour to the clear water and green hills.
I zoomed in on a little flower: against the vast lake and imposing wall, it looked even more delicate and charming.
From this angle, you could see the North Garden backed by the rolling Zhongshan Mountain.
Facing the rippling Qianhu Lake, backed by the ancient and magnificent Ming City Wall, and with a view of the world-renowned Sun Yat-sen Mausoleum in the distance.
Banks of blooming tulips along the lake mirrored the water and hills – the scenery was exceptionally lovely.
Spring breezes sent ripples across Qianhu Lake; graceful tulips swayed in the wind, sinuous and lovely.
Patch after patch of tulips grew wild and carefree, their bright corollas greedily reaching upward as the sun teased their petals open.
I walked along the shore toward the Crescent Dyke, glancing back now and then at the Tropical Plant Palace I’d just visited.
The lake’s gentle movement and the transparency of the glass gave the scene a lively, dreamy play of light and shadow.
Beneath tall redwoods, expanses of tulips spread out before me. The intense afternoon sun poured unstintingly on the blooms, making already gorgeous flowers even more dazzling.
Stepping onto the Crescent Dyke, a lush green islet appeared on its left.
The mid-lake islet was also bursting with spring: fresh flowers alongside withered twigs, reeds mirrored by green willows.
Looking at the plant palace from the Crescent Dyke.
The vast green Zhongshan Mountain and the richly layered vegetation inside the garden formed a vivid plant kingdom.
Here, thick vegetation merges mountain, water, city wall, and forest – a natural beauty of the most graceful kind.
Crowds thronged the narrow Crescent Dyke. Several young women, fully equipped, were taking photo-shoot portraits, truly making the most of their youth and nature’s splendour.
Standing on the slender dyke, I felt as if I were in the middle of the lake.
Isn’t Nanjing’s Ming City Wall a true marvel?
A red-roofed windmill, encircled by green reeds and withered grasses, added a romantic touch.
Walking the winding, narrow dyke, every step brought a different view. An information board told me the crescent-shaped dyke in Qianhu Lake is planted with Chinese tallow and ginkgo trees. In late autumn, they turn colourful – the lakeside a mix of emerald, golden, orange, and fiery red reflected in the water, a dreamlike shimmer. I’ll be back in autumn. That’s the magic of Nanjing: its beauty lies in its ability to hold your attention through all four seasons, the same scene offering different splendour.
Colourful little boats rested quietly in a cove.
Beyond the Crescent Dyke is the lawn area. Located in the middle of the Grass Garden, it features a large, smooth lawn dotted with well-shaped, open-grown trees, creating a quiet, peaceful landscape of scattered trees and grassland. Little pavilions and a windmill add garden charm.
The big lawn is surrounded by a dense, three-dimensional arrangement of trees, shrubs and grasses.
The sun at 5 p.m. – I took a backlit shot in the lawn area.
Here, we seemed even closer to the Ming City Wall.
Back at the gate around 5.30 p.m. By then the garden had closed, and with no queues, I finally got a commemorative photo of the entrance.
And could calmly read the introduction board.
No matter what, you could say I did a little holiday travel after all! And in a gorgeous botanical garden to boot!
