The late start to spring weather hasn’t kept the District from putting on its most anticipated shows or stopped crowds from gathering to see it.

For just four to seven days each year, the cherry trees circling the Tidal Basin burst into bloom, transforming the nation’s capital into a sea of pale pink and white. When roughly 3,800 trees reach their peak, hundreds of thousands of visitors flood Washington, D.C., drawn by the fleeting display.

For locals, it’s a familiar seasonal rhythm, but for tourists, it’s the main event. In 2025, the Environmental Protection Agency estimated that about 1.5 million people come to D.C. during the cherry blossom festival each year. On Sunday, the fourth day of peak bloom, I laced up my Asics sneakers, zipped up my coat over my thick sweatshirt and joined the crowds myself. Here’s what I saw.

7 a.m.

I approached the Tidal Basin as the sun rose, washing the sky in streaks of yellow and orange, while runners and bikers sped past. After passing the Lincoln Memorial and walking through the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial, I finally saw what I came for: cherry blossoms in peak bloom — soft pink and white clusters that hovered like clouds along the branches.

I, surprisingly, found the first hour of my four-hour stakeout the busiest. Though I thought I would be outsmarting the crowds by heading down to the trees at sunrise, I was proven wrong the second I stepped foot onto the Tidal Basin. Much of the basin was lined with photographers and tripods, and I felt like an amateur, holding up my iPhone for a snap of the sunrise among a sea of professional equipment.

With mugs and Starbucks cups in hand, people moved along the Tidal Basin path near the MLK Memorial, pausing to admire the blooms and carefully weaving around a flurry of photoshoots. Families in matching outfits posed for perfect shots, while engagement and pregnancy sessions filled the path with activity — including one couple who flanked by assistants charged with blowing bubbles into their professional photos.

The seemingly endless photoshoots that crowded the narrow paths forced me off road as I weaved through clusters of people. I soon turned around, heading in the opposite direction, back toward the MLK Memorial, all while wondering how many pictures I might accidentally appear in. The frenzy that I found in my first hour would set the tone for the rest of the morning.

8 a.m.

Entering the second hour of my walk around the Tidal Basin, I had taken a few short breaks but kept moving, spotting along the way a visitor pushing a Yorkshire Terrier in a basket stroller lined with fake cherry blossoms. I couldn’t help but wonder if the little dog felt out of place amid all the plastic blooms.

After walking for 30 minutes, I took a seat on a bench to the left of the MLK memorial facing the water for a 15-minute break as the early morning wakeup caught up with me, as I caught a few yawns. A tourist sat next to me and proudly showed me her pictures from the sunrise earlier that morning. It was at this moment that the cold hit me — a freezing 30 degrees was not what I expected for D.C. in late March. But I trudged on and got up to cross the bridge to reach the Jefferson Memorial.

I first found the other side of the bridge to be less crowded, which was a relief from the tourist-induced chaos on the other side of the basin and further from the water itself and on the grass were brand-new cherry blossom trees, gifted from Japan. Chicken wire surrounded the brand-new trees as they just began to grow. Each of them had skinny trunks, similar to that of a stick, and a few branches with smaller blossoms.

Then-Japanese Prime Minister Fumio Kishida announced in 2024 that Japan would gift the United States 250 new cherry trees in 2026 to replace the ones construction crews took down in their rehabilitation of the Basin’s eroding seawall and to celebrate the 250th anniversary of the United States.

Though I initially felt the other side of the Tidal Basin was less crowded, I hit major foot traffic with another gaggle of tourists lined up around the perimeter and surrounding areas near the Floral Library off of Independence Avenue, taking photos with selfie sticks and admiring each of the trees. I also saw more dogs on this side, with one golden retriever donning a hanbok, a traditional Korean outfit, and another visitor instructing her two corgis to stand side by side for a photo. 

Right next to the Jefferson Memorial, there was no defined path, so I had to off-road, yet again, to reach a more open space. I finally reached more breathing room, only to see a group of eighth graders on their field trip being ushered by their chaperones after getting an early start to what I can imagine would be a busy sightseeing schedule.

9 a.m.

After walking near the Jefferson Memorial, I decided to enter back into the chaos for optimal people watching and made my way back to the part of the Tidal Basin I started at. On the walk back, I spotted a cat in a pink stroller and a lost sweater hanging on a some cherry tree branches. 

A couple asked me to take a picture of them, proudly holding up their dog as they stood under the flowers. I attempted to get the best angle with my freezing hands, all while avoiding getting other tourists in their shots.

The part of the Tidal Basin I was walking by, near Ohio Street, had some low branches, with many having to duck under to get to their desired destination. Luckily because I am 5’2″, I only had to slightly bend my knees to continue on. It was at this point that I noticed, for how packed the Tidal Basin was, it was pretty quiet, with low chatter and sometimes a scream from a baby in the air. 

By 9:30, I finally returned to where I had started and took a seat across from the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial, just in time to catch a quinceañera photoshoot. The subject wore a poofy, flowing, sparkly pink dress that drew admiring comments from every passerby.

During this hour, pedal boats began to dot the basin, likely opening for the day, drifting across the water and pushing against the strong winds. I made a mental note to try one with my friend once the weather warms up.

10 a.m.

By 10 a.m. I was feeling a little sleepy, though satisfied with the warmer temperature. Tourists were climbing trees and tugging at branches to get the perfect shot. One mom shook her head at the chaos, telling her family, “This is too crowded — we don’t need another photo,” before turning to leave.

Strong winds sent petals swirling through the air, drifting into my hair and catching the light. A collective “wow” rose from the crowd, visitors mesmerized by the cherry blossoms’ fleeting beauty. I took one last look at the trees, knowing I likely wouldn’t return before the peak bloom ended. Most flowers clung to the branches, but a few delicate pink blooms peeked out from the trunks themselves, a quiet reminder of the season’s fleeting magic.

On my way out, I saw a group of eighth graders on their trip to the District, a culmination of their middle school experience, taking a picture in front of the MLK memorial in matching blue sweatshirts, giving me flashbacks to my very own eighth-grade trip.

After logging 6.21 miles in just four hours, I headed to The Hatchet’s townhouse for our weekly staff meeting, leaving the Tidal Basin to the next wave of tourists. Though I was overstimulated by the sheer amount of tourists who descended on the Tidal Basin, the blossoms’ beauty is undeniable, and I was glad to make my yearly trek to see them.