From our perspective, the most immediate and honest signal we send is through our leaves. When our internal water pressure, known as turgor, drops, we can no longer hold our leaves firm and proud. You will see us begin to droop, our leaves becoming limp and lifeless. This is not a sign of laziness; it is a desperate physiological response to conserve the precious moisture we have left. For a Grevillea, this wilting might start subtly, with the fine, divided leaflets looking less perky before the entire branch begins to sag. It is our first and most urgent plea for help.
Our vibrant green foliage is the factory where we produce our food, and it requires water to operate. Under severe water stress, this factory begins to shut down. You may notice our leaves turning a pale, yellowish-green, or worse, the tips and edges beginning to brown and crisp up—a symptom often called leaf scorch. This browning is essentially a form of tissue death. Without adequate water, we cannot transport nutrients or cool ourselves through transpiration, causing our cells to overheat and die, starting at the most vulnerable points. This is a clear sign that our internal systems are in distress.
When the dry conditions persist and our water reserves are critically low, we must make difficult choices to ensure our own survival. Leaves are massive surfaces from which water is lost. To reduce this loss, we will actively abort them. You will see an unusual amount of leaf drop, often starting with the oldest leaves first. Furthermore, the energy and water required to produce and sustain our beautiful, spider-like flowers is immense. If we are struggling to simply exist, we cannot afford to reproduce. Therefore, we will sacrifice our flower buds, causing them to dry up and fall off before they ever get a chance to open. It is a heartbreaking but necessary strategy to direct all remaining resources to our core structure.
Growth is a luxury that requires surplus energy and water. In a prolonged dry spell, our entire focus shifts from expansion to mere maintenance. You will notice that our new growth has completely halted. The tender new shoots that would normally emerge will either be absent entirely or will appear stunted, small, and weak. The internodes (the spaces between leaves on a stem) may become unusually short. We are essentially entering a state of dormancy or suspended animation, waiting for the conditions to improve before we dare to invest in growing again. It is a silent but telling sign of chronic water deprivation.
While not a symptom on our person, the condition of the soil at our roots is the ultimate confirmation of our plight. Our roots are our only means of drinking. If you check the soil several inches down and find it powdery dry, crumbly, and pulling away from the edges of the pot or the ground, then you have found the root cause—literally. We cannot access what is not there. This dry environment also severely damages our delicate root hairs, which are responsible for water uptake, creating a vicious cycle that is difficult to break without immediate intervention.
