Sakamoto Rice Terraces and Rural Landscapes in Sakatani

A Planned Terrace on a Kyushu Mountainside

The Sakamoto Rice Terraces sit on a south-facing slope in the Sakatani district of Nichinan, in southern Miyazaki Prefecture. They climb the lower flank of Mount Komatsu, which at 988.8 metres is the highest point within the city. The paddies occupy a band of land between roughly 255 and 315 metres in elevation, ringed on every side by forests of Obi cedar.

Most terraced rice fields in Japan follow the contours of the land, producing curved, irregular plots in many shapes. Sakamoto looks different. Its paddies are rectangular, laid out in even tiers that stack up the hillside like a broad flight of stairs. The regularity is no accident. The terrace was designed and built in the early twentieth century as a single planned project, and that origin shows in every straight edge.

In October 2013 the national government selected the wider setting (the terraces together with the cedar woods that enclose them) as an Important Cultural Landscape, one of around fifty such sites in the country at the time.

From Communal Grassland to Rice Fields

Before the terraces existed, this slope was a kayaba: a stretch of grassland held in common by the village, where households cut the tall susuki grass used to thatch their roofs. Wildflowers came and went with the seasons, birds were plentiful, and local children treated the open ground as a playground.

Construction began in September 1928. Skilled engineers laid out the first sections, but as the work advanced, residents learned the stone-stacking techniques by watching and copying. Once a dozen or so paddies were finished, families across the district took on the labour themselves, working together to extend the terrace year by year. Sources differ slightly on when the project concluded, placing completion between 1933 and the mid-1930s; records kept at the time note that around 190 paddies covering close to 5.7 hectares had been opened by August 1933.

Each plot is unusually large for a terrace, about five ares. That size reflects a practical decision: the fields were sized for cultivation by horse-drawn plough, which had become common in the district. Water was brought in through channels cut from two separate valleys, fed by springs on Mount Komatsu.

One feature sets Sakamoto apart from older terraces. The entire process was documented on paper. The Miyazaki Prefectural Archives still holds the official records of the reclamation, including topographic surveys made before a single stone was moved and the original design drawings for the project.

Why the Landscape Was Recognised

Japan's Important Cultural Landscape system, introduced in 2005, protects places shaped by ordinary working life rather than by monumental architecture. A landscape qualifies when it helps explain how people in a region lived and made their living.

Sakamoto earns that recognition because it records change. Read from the bottom of the valley upward, the settlement shows three layers of rural history at once: the scattered, small-scale farming that came before the terrace; the intensive, organised rice cultivation that followed land consolidation; and the postwar shift toward forestry, as households turned to planting and tending Obi cedar. The cedar itself carries history. Obi cedar was long prized as timber for boat-building, and the surrounding plantations belong to the same designated landscape as the paddies.

The terrace had already drawn national attention before 2013. In 1999 the Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries named it one of Japan's Top 100 Terraced Rice Fields, citing its value for land conservation and for the ecosystems it supports.

What to Look For on a Visit

The stonework rewards a close look. The retaining walls rise more than two metres in places, built from natural stone split into large and small pieces and set without mortar. The finish is deliberately rough rather than polished, and the uneven faces give the terrace a worn, handmade warmth. Walk the lanes between fields and the marks of trial and error left by the original builders are still visible in the stacking.

The terrace changes character through the year. In late May, when the paddies have just been flooded for planting, the water catches the sun and the whole hillside glints. By mid-September the rice has turned gold, and red spider lilies bloom in bands along the field edges; the contrast of gold and scarlet draws photographers from across the region. Hydrangeas flower in June and sunflowers in July.

For one evening in early April, the slope is lit by hand. During the Sakamoto Terrace Festival, based at the nearby roadside station, residents set out around 1,500 handmade torches along the ridges and field paths after dark.

An observation point above the fields gives the clearest sense of the terrace's scale and the precision of its layout.

Getting There and Nearby

Sakamoto lies in the hills west of central Nichinan. The simplest approach is by car from the castle town of Obi, about fifteen minutes away. The Michi-no-Eki Sakatani roadside station sits close by; from there a side road leads to the terrace in another five minutes or so. Parking at the terrace itself is limited.

Obi is worth pairing with the visit. Its preserved samurai district, with stone walls, gardens, and the reconstructed gate of Obi Castle, gives a clear picture of the domain that once promoted the cedar forests now framing the terraces. The roadside station is a convenient stop for local produce and a meal.

Visitors who want a deeper connection to the place can join the Sakamoto terrace owner programme, one of the earliest schemes of its kind in Kyushu. Members take part in planting, harvesting, and stone-wall cleaning through the year and receive a share of the rice crop.