“Hardy” or “hardy” Hibiscus
- Judith Paul
- Oct 24
- 4 min read
I often get inquiries from customers along the lines of “Do you have any H/hardy Hibiscus?” That’s not a typo – when that question is asked, it’s a bit hard to see the punctuation. Are they inquiring about a hibiscus that’s hardy (lower case h), or a group of cultivars that are often collectively referred to as a Hardy (capital H) Hibiscus?
If someone is inquiring about “hardy hibiscus”, I take it to mean that they want a hibiscus – any type of hibiscus – that is winter hardy where they want to plant it. If someone is inquiring about a “Hardy Hibiscus”, I take it to mean they are asking about the group of hibiscus herbaceous perennials that die back over winter and regrow from their roots the following spring.
Because customers don’t have speech bubbles floating above their heads (so I can see the punctuation), I have no idea which type of hibiscus they’re asking for, but I do know enough to seek clarification. The conversation usually goes something like this …
Customer: Do you have any H/hardy Hibiscus?”
Me: “Yes, I have five different types of hibiscuses available. Do you know which variety you’re looking for?”
Customer looks at me like I have two heads: “Yes, I want a H/hardy one.”
Me: “Sure, I understand you want one that is hardy, but there are many different types of hardy hibiscus, each with its own characteristics, which include its habit, size, and type of bloom. People often refer to the ones that die back over winter as Hardy Hibiscus, but the term isn’t used consistently, so I need to ask a few questions. Is it the one that has the huge flat blooms that can be as large as dinner plates? Here’s a picture of one.”
Customer: “No, I want the other one.”
Me: “Aha! Is that the one you may have heard people refer to as a Rose of Sharon?”
Customer: “Never heard of it … look, I just want one that has pretty blooms, and it doesn’t have to be brought inside over winter.”
Me: “OK, well, in that case, it’s not a tropical hibiscus, but it might be one of the other native Swamp Mallows. Does this look familiar?”
Customer: “No, it’s none of those. The blooms on this one are like peonies or roses.”
Me: “Gotcha, then I think what you’re looking for is Hibiscus mutabilis. (Show pictures)”.
Customer: “Yes! That’s it, but I want the one with purple flowers, not pink.”
Me: “The common name for this hibiscus is the Confederate Rose. The blooms’ colors are white, soft pink, and rose pink, depending on the maturity of each bloom. It’s very pretty because of how profusely it blooms in autumn and all the different shades of pink and white, but it’s not a small shrub. This one can get well over 10 ft high and almost as wide.”
Customer: “Gosh, no, that’s way too big, and the one I’m thinking of blooms all summer, not fall. I’m sure it comes in purple!”
Me: “Not that I’m aware of, but maybe you’re thinking of the other type of hardy hibiscus that has very ornate, ruffled, double blooms. That one comes in a purple-ish color.”
Customer: “Yes! That’s it! My granny called it Althea. I thought it was really cute that she named this shrub, and I always remembered it because of that.”
Me: “I see, well, this shrub has many common names, which include Rose of Sharon and Althea. It’s hardy in this area and blooms prolifically all summer. It can get over 6 ft high, but it doesn’t mind being trimmed back to whatever size you want it to be.”
Customer: “Great! I’ll take two!”
Although these types of conversations can be challenging for everyone, I welcome them as an
opportunity to help someone achieve a gardening dream. In that case, the customer’s quest was
prompted by recollections of a much-loved relation who had passed away many years ago. The
customer had recently purchased a property with land (as opposed to an apartment with no land), and one of her first purchases was a living tribute to the grandmother who had helped raise her.
Did it really matter that she didn’t know the name of the plant? Not at all. What mattered was that she had a dream and worked with us to help her achieve it.
Article by
Judith Paul
Hi, I'm Judith Paul, with a gardening style best described as “Oooo, there’s a gap over here!” My work history is equally unpredictable (possibly even quirky) and ranges from pulling eel-infested cow carcasses out of creeks to managing multi-million-dollar projects across various industries. I’m a Kiwi (referring to the iconic flightless bird of NZ, not the fruit) who has also lived in Australia. Currently, I run a licensed and inspected plant propagation nursery in North Carolina (USA) when I’m not teaching, writing, or editing.
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