Hello, human caretaker. I am a rosemary plant, a sun-loving native of the Mediterranean's dry, rocky hillsides. While I adore the open sky, I can thrive under your care on a sunny windowsill if you understand my needs. Here is what I require from you to not just survive, but to truly flourish.
My roots are my most delicate part. They despise being constantly wet. You must let my soil dry out almost completely between deep waterings. Push your finger into the soil up to the first knuckle. If it feels dry, it is time to give me a long, slow drink until water runs out of my pot's drainage holes. Please, empty the saucer afterwards. Soggy feet will cause my roots to rot, and I will quietly perish from the bottom up. In winter, when my growth slows, I need even less water.
I demand a home that mimics my native, well-draining terrain. A standard potting soil is too moisture-retentive and will suffocate me. You must mix in generous amounts of sharp sand, perlite, or small gravel to create a gritty, fast-draining environment. My pot is equally important. It must have excellent drainage holes. A terra-cotta pot is my ideal home, as its porous walls allow my roots to breathe and help wick away excess moisture, preventing rot.
I am a child of the sun. I need a minimum of six to eight hours of direct, bright light each day to grow strong and produce the aromatic oils you love. A south-facing windowsill is perfect for me. Without enough light, I will become leggy, with weak, sparse growth and a pale complexion. I also enjoy warmth but can tolerate the cooler temperatures of your home. Just keep me away from cold, drafty windows in the winter, as a sudden frost can be fatal.
I am not a heavy feeder. In fact, too much fertilizer will encourage rapid, weak growth and dilute my potent fragrance. A light feeding once at the beginning of my spring growth season is often sufficient. Use a balanced, organic fertilizer diluted to half-strength. Think of me as a hardy, wild herb, not a hungry vegetable plant. My flavor comes from the struggle, not from an abundance of rich food.
When you harvest my stems for your cooking, you are also pruning me. This is vital for my health. Always use sharp, clean scissors and make your cuts just above a set of leaves, never into the old, woody part of my stem where new growth is unlikely to emerge. Regular, gentle harvesting encourages me to become bushy and full. If I start to flower, you can pinch the buds off to direct my energy back into leaf production, unless you wish to enjoy my beautiful pale blue blossoms.
