Alishan is a mountain forest in Chiayi county, in central Taiwan, of red cypresses a thousand and more years old that the loggers never reached, climbed by a narrow-gauge railway of 1912 that spirals and zigzags 2,200 metres up from the plain, and it is the island's classic dawn, watched from the highest station in Taiwan as the sun comes up over a sea of cloud. The Japanese built the line to bring the cypress down to Chiayi, seventy kilometres through fifty tunnels and four switchbacks, and it now carries passengers the other way, through three climate belts from banana to cypress, with a shuttle train climbing in the dark to Zhushan at 2,451 metres, where the crowd waits at the railing for the sun to clear the ridge of Yushan and light the cloud packed white in the valleys below; the cloud sea is most reliable from October through the winter, when the northeast monsoon packs it against the range. Raised boardwalks loop through the cypresses the saws left standing, the largest 43 metres tall and thirteen around at the base, and for most of the last century the mountain's great draw was a single cypress over 3,000 years old, the sacred tree, laid down in 1998.
The Japanese foresters also planted cherries, and the mountain holds the largest stand of Yoshino in Taiwan, some 18,000 trees among 31 varieties that come to full flush in the second half of March. The mountain is the homeland of the Tsou, an Austronesian people of about 6,700 whose hunting grounds the logging concession was cut through, and the tea houses sit lower down among the terraces at Shizhuo, where the fog that pools below the sunrise platform is what makes the oolong. From April into June fireflies fill the wooded slopes below the forest line, and in late October the maples redden around the temples. Alishan is a forest a railway was built to cut, and the train now brings people to look at what it left.