From our viewpoint underground, water is everything. When you overwater us, our world becomes a waterlogged prison. The soil pores, which should be filled with life-giving air, are instead flooded. Our roots begin to suffocate; we cannot breathe. This lack of oxygen causes us to rot, turning us soft, mushy, and dark brown. We lose our firm, white vitality. This root rot is a death sentence if not caught, as we can no longer absorb nutrients or water, creating a cruel irony. Conversely, when you underwater, we are left gasping in a desert of dust. We become dry, brittle, and may shrivel. We desperately search for any hint of moisture, and if none is found, we simply desiccate and die, unable to perform our duty of transporting water to the stem and leaves.
Our caudex, the swollen trunk that is our pride, is your most reliable indicator. An overwatered caudex feels unnaturally soft and spongy to the touch. You might even press it and feel a sickening give, as if it is rotting from the inside out—because it often is. The stored water has no place to go, and the cells are rupturing from the pressure and decay. In stark contrast, an underwatered caudex tells a story of drought. It begins to shrivel and wrinkle, much like the skin of a prune. It loses its plump, firm appearance as it uses up its internal water reserves to survive. The stem may also become limp and unable to support the weight of the leaves.
We communicate our distress most visibly through our leaves. Overwatering forces us into a state of yellow surrender. The leaves, particularly the older ones lower down, turn a universal yellow. They become soft, droopy, and may fall off at the slightest touch. This is a sign of systemic failure; with our roots rotting, we cannot sustain the foliage. Underwatering, however, prompts a much drier plea for help. Our leaves lose their lush, green rigidity. They become limp, feel thin and papery, and will often develop dry, brown, and crispy edges before progressing inward. They may curl inward or drop prematurely to conserve the plant's remaining moisture.
Our ultimate goal is to bloom, but we cannot perform under extreme duress. Both overwatering and underwatering cause immense stress, diverting all energy away from reproduction. You may see us abort our flower buds before they even have a chance to open; they simply turn yellow and drop off. In the case of severe underwatering, we may not even attempt to produce buds, conserving every last drop of water for pure survival. A lack of flowers is our silent protest against improper care, a sign that our basic needs are not being met for us to thrive and show our beautiful colors.
