Crimsoneyed Mallow

Family: Malvaceae (Mallow family)
Genus: Hibiscus
Species: moscheutos

Photograph courtesy Ozarks Regional Herbarium http://biology.smsu.edu/Herbarium/

Okay. So you’re asking, why am I writing in November about a summer-blooming, deciduous shrub with tropical connections? Don’t we all think of Hawaii when we think of “hibiscus”?

If we do—and I did—then we’re missing out on a great opportunity, particularly for any water-logged trouble spots in the full sun. Some of us have boggy areas kept wet by an underground spring. Our yards may be set lower than the ones all around. Or perhaps many new homes have sprouted on the hillsides behind us, resulting in run-off and extra water squeezed from the land above. Major drainage problems may require engineering, but minor ones can often be managed by choosing the right plants.

Its ability to grow in wet places is just one of the reasons Hibiscus moscheutos earns its space this month. Another has to do with its name. I’m still recovering from the Case of the Mis-Named Nasturtium so it’s interesting to me that moscheutos is easily confused with moschatus—and H. moschatus is an outdated name for Abelmoschus moschatus, also a member of the Mallow family but a cousin from tropical Asia most typically grown as a houseplant. Hibiscus moscheutos, on the other hand, is a native of eastern North America, named by Linnaeus and noted by Thomas Jefferson as a characteristic plant of Virginia, in the “medicinal” category. Mr. Jefferson grouped native plants by their primary use in his day: medicinal, edible (he used the term “esculent”), ornamental, and “useful for fabrication.” He also misspelled the botanical name—or let a printer’s error slip through—in at least one of his texts, where it’s listed as H. moschentos. He ascribed to it the common name “Syrian mallow.” Today it’s known by many other names that vary by locale—swamp mallow, marsh mallow, swamp hibiscus, wild cotton—but the one that seems to be as “official” as any common name every gets, the one used by USDA, is “crimsoneyed mallow.” Which is slightly misleading because while there are many varieties of Hibiscus moscheutos with pale pink or white flowers and a bright crimson eye, there are just as many with flowers that are uniformly deep red. And sometimes the eye is yellow or white.

The connection to “swamp” or “marsh” is sensible, because H. moscheutos grows very successfully where the ground is quite wet so long as its crown is not covered. It will also do well in ordinary soil that’s amended with compost to improve its ability to retain water, getting by with supplemental watering that must be regular but not necessarily excessive. It’s a deciduous shrub with a free form that takes some room—allow for a spread of six feet and don’t wedge it into a too-small space. If you’ve ever done that with a Weigela, you’ll know what will happen to your Hibiscus moscheutos. Unlike the Weigela, however, the Hibiscus is likely to die back to the ground every year. Think Fuchsia magellanica. Don’t trim back any branches left standing until early spring. Rainwater that collects in open cuts on the branches can encourage rot that will kill the whole plant. For this same reason, avoid piling mulch right on top of its crown. Have faith that the roots are completely hardy through whatever temperatures our Sunset Zone 4 winter has in store.

If it doesn’t emerge right away in the spring, don’t panic. This plant is a late starter, which makes it a perfect overstudy for a bed of bulbs. Once they fade, your Hibiscus moscheutos will be up and running. One glance at its flowers—they should open by early summer and last through September—will take away any worries about somebody noticing the bulbs’ faded foliage.

The flowers are huge—up to 10 inches across. They’ll shine in the sun—all the members of the Hibiscus genus appreciate full sun—and just take your breath away. They really do look like they belong in the tropics. But you won’t have to haul them inside for the winter. Just the thought of these blossoms is enough to chase the November drears away—another reason to feature Hibiscus moscheutos. At this time of year, caught between the last of the leaves and the arrival of seasonal hollies, the Chinese witch hazel and winter-blooming jasmine, all of us in the Pacific Northwest appreciate even thoughts of bright colors.

A certain bright spot in November that brings cheer and good thoughts is Thanksgiving. This holiday has its own origins in the region where Hibiscus moscheutos is native. So that’s yet another connection—at least in my mind—between one beautiful shrub and this typically gray month

As you share Thanksgiving with family and friends, I hope your meal is much more than esculent. Let it be succulent—moist, toothsome, and tasty.

The Case of the Mis-Named Nasturtium is finally closed. The co-op distributor took the plant breeder’s word for the plant’s classification. The distributor regrets doing this. The tags are now being redone. Next year, at area garden centers, you’re likely to spot Tropaeolum majus ‘Red Wonder’.