Hibiscus. Hibisci? Hibiscuses!

When I picture a hibiscus, I see this:

But when I think about hibiscus, I see a verdant Hawaiian scene in my mind. A cursory Google image search comes up lacking, but I don't think a picture could do it justice anyway. My memories of Hawaii growing up are too fragrant, colorful, balmy, and happy to be captured by something as relatively simple as a camera.

Of course given that my family, like half of Alaska, went there during the cold, dark winters, I suppose the escape made the memories all the more poignant. Anyway.

Earlier this spring, I was speaking over our fence with our kindly, elderly neighbor. I complimented her on her garden and lamented that even if the dogs weren't eating our rose bush, tearing limbs off of the tree, or denuding our one (and only) flowering bush, I'm pretty sure the shade in our back yard would make a garden difficult. She agreed, but it's probably for the best with the dogs anyway. Less to destroy and less desirable habitat for those water moccasins. Ew.

Clearly familiar with the local flora, I asked if she knew the kind of tree just on the other side of our fence. She said it's a hibiscus tree. Now the flowers certainly looked like it (white!), but I'd asked because I was under the impression that hibiscuses grew on a bush. Well, apparently they grow as trees too! I enjoyed that happy Hawaii feeling for a few seconds.

Having not been on that side of the house in a while, I noticed a tall weed. I mean, up to my chest and straight up vertical with no branches to really speak of. Unsure what it was (pretty in its own way) and puzzled why the lawn guy hadn't whacked it with the other weeds, I asked if my neighbor could identify it as well.

You guessed it, it's a baby hibiscus tree :)

Incidentally, my neighbor said she'd always loved the single rose bush alongside of our house and asked if she could have a clipping before the dogs finish it off. She'd better hurry...