Hello, it is I, your impatiens plant. From my perspective, my sole purpose is to grow, photosynthesize, and produce a spectacular display of flowers to attract pollinators, thereby ensuring the survival of my genes. When I am not flowering, it is not out of spite; it is a direct response to my environment telling me that conditions are not optimal for reproduction. Here are the primary reasons from my point of view.
Water is the very essence of my being; it is what transports nutrients and keeps my cells turgid. If you let my soil become bone dry, I will become stressed. My first priority becomes survival, not blooming. I will wilt, drop my buds, and conserve all my energy just to stay alive. Conversely, if my roots are constantly sitting in water, they will suffocate and rot. A root system in distress cannot uptake the nutrients and water I need to support the massive energy expenditure of creating flowers. Furthermore, if you feed me a fertilizer too high in nitrogen, you are instructing me to focus on growing lush, green leaves and stems at the expense of flowers. I need a balanced diet, with more phosphorus (the middle number on the fertilizer box) to encourage blooming.
Light is my food. I use its energy to create the sugars that power all my functions, including flower production. However, I am particular. If you place me in deep, dense shade, I simply cannot photosynthesize enough energy. I will become leggy as I stretch pathetically towards any light source, and I will not have the strength to produce any blooms. On the other hand, if you subject me to the intense, scorching afternoon sun, you will fry me. My leaves will scorch, I will lose water too quickly, and I will again become too stressed to flower. I thrive in the dappled sunlight of the forest floor, which for you means bright, indirect light or morning sun with afternoon shade.
When my stems become long, leggy, and overgrown, I am effectively putting all my energy into maintaining that excessive vegetative growth. This is inefficient. By pinching back my stem tips or pruning my longer stems, you are doing me a favor. This simple action signals me to stop stretching and to branch out, becoming bushier and more compact. It also redirects my energy away from stem elongation and into the development of flower buds. Furthermore, if I am busy sustaining old, spent flowers (ones that have already been pollinated), I am less inclined to produce new ones. By regularly deadheading—removing these faded blooms—you are tricking me into thinking my mission is not yet complete, encouraging me to produce wave after wave of new flowers to try again.
I am a tender being. I flourish in consistently warm but not hot temperatures. A sudden cold snap, or nights that become too chilly, will shock my system and bring all growth, including flower production, to a halt. Similarly, a prolonged heatwave, especially when coupled with inadequate water, will cause me to shut down to conserve resources. My ideal temperature range is quite moderate, and when conditions fall outside of it, my only goal is survival until more favorable conditions return. Flowering is a luxury I cannot afford during such times of stress.
