First, you must understand my cries for help. I am not dying without reason; I am communicating my distress. My large, beautiful leaves are my pride, so when they begin to wilt dramatically, even in moist soil, it is my most obvious signal. I may be suffering from extreme thirst. If my leaves are developing crispy, brown edges or bleached, scorched patches, the harsh sun is burning me. I am a shade lover at heart. If my leaves are turning yellow, particularly in the crown or at the base, you are loving me too much with water, and my roots are drowning and rotting in soggy, oxygen-deprived soil. Look closely at my foliage for tiny webbing or sticky residue, a sign that spider mites or aphids are sapping my strength.
Water is my lifeblood, but balance is everything. If I am wilting, check my soil immediately. Insert your finger two inches down. If it feels dry, I need a long, deep drink at my base, not on my leaves. Soak the area thoroughly until the soil is moist like a wrung-out sponge. If the soil is waterlogged and clumpy, you must act to save my roots. Carefully lift me from the ground. Gently wash the soil from my root system and inspect it. Healthy roots are firm and white or tan. Use sterile, sharp pruners to cut away any mushy, black, or foul-smelling roots—these are rotten and will kill me.
Once my roots are tended to, I need a better place to live. Whether you are repotting me or moving me in the garden, my requirements are non-negotiable. I need rich, well-draining soil that retains moisture without becoming compacted. Amend the planting hole with plenty of compost or peat moss. Most critically, I must be placed in partial to full shade. The hot afternoon sun is my mortal enemy; it causes me to lose water faster than my roots can absorb it, leading to perpetual wilt and scorch. A spot with morning sun and afternoon dappled shade or full shade is my paradise.
After this traumatic process, I need time and protection to regenerate. Apply a layer of organic mulch, like bark chips or shredded leaves, around my base. This will help keep my soil cool and consistently moist, which is exactly what I crave. Please refrain from fertilizing me now. My root system is fragile and tender; chemical fertilizers can burn my new roots and cause more stress. Allow me to focus my energy on re-establishing myself. In a week or two, with consistent moisture and kind shade, you should see me perk up. New, small leaves may emerge from my crown, a sure sign that I am on the path to recovery.
