Lehua Mamo: A Golden Bloom for Our January Tradition

Every January, my son and I celebrate our shared birthday month with a tradition that’s close to my heart—creating a new lehua illustration. His Hawaiian name, Kamanu‘ailehua, honors the manu (birds) that feed from the lehua blossoms, so this practice has become my way of keeping that meaning alive in our everyday lives.

This year, I chose to highlight a bloom less often seen in artwork: the lehua mamo. While the fiery red lehua is the most common and celebrated, Metrosideros polymorpha—the native ‘ōhi‘a tree—also produces golden blossoms that are just as striking, though rarer in the wild. Their warm yellow hue feels like a sunbeam—quietly shining its light, less expected, and deeply treasured when found.

‘Ōhi‘a are some of the first plants to grow on fresh lava flows, creating shade and soil that allow entire ecosystems to take root. They’re keystone species in Hawai‘i’s forests, feeding native birds like the ‘apapane and ‘amakihi, and holding cultural significance through countless mo‘olelo (stories) and mele (songs). But they’re also under threat. Rapid ‘Ōhi‘a Death, a fungal disease, has killed hundreds of thousands of trees across the islands, making it more important than ever to protect and preserve them.

Because of this, my lehua art isn’t just about tradition anymore—it’s about advocacy. My son’s name connects him to this tree and its blooms, so protecting them feels deeply personal. A percentage of proceeds from any of our collections featuring lehua goes directly to the ‘Ōhi‘a Seed Storage Project, which safeguards seeds for future restoration efforts.

Something about lehua mamo reminds me of the quieter joys in life, the moments that don’t call attention to themselves but leave you feeling deeply grateful. Just like the manu that visit these blossoms, drawn to their sweetness, I want my son to seek out and cherish those rare, golden moments.

Each year’s lehua illustration becomes a time capsule of where we are in life—what’s changing, what’s constant, and how we’ve grown. And for as long as we share this birthday month, I hope this tradition roots us both in the beauty, strength, and resilience of the lehua.