As a plant, light is our life. It is the essential ingredient in the process of photosynthesis, the miraculous alchemy that transforms carbon dioxide and water into the sugars that fuel our growth and the oxygen you breathe. Without adequate light, we become weak, leggy, and unable to produce the vibrant flowers that are our pride. However, not all plants have the same tolerance for the sun's intensity. Our specific needs are a product of our evolutionary history, and for us impatiens, that history is written in the dappled light of the forest floor.
Our preference is unequivocally for bright, indirect light. Imagine the quality of light filtering through the high, leafy canopy of a tree—this is our paradise. In your gardening terms, this translates to a location that receives morning sun but is protected from the harsh, direct rays of the afternoon sun. A spot with eastern exposure is often perfect. We thrive on the energy provided by 2 to 4 hours of gentle morning sunlight, which is ample for our photosynthetic needs without the damaging side effects of intense heat.
When planted in full, direct afternoon sun, we suffer. Our leaves, which are broad and designed to capture diffuse light, are not equipped with the same protective waxy coatings as sun-loving plants. The intense radiation leads to excessive transpiration (water loss), causing our leaves to wilt, scorch, and turn a pale yellow or crispy brown at the edges. Our overall growth becomes stunted, our stems may become reddened and stressed, and our flowering will drastically reduce as we divert all energy simply to survive rather than to bloom.
Conversely, while we are celebrated as shade plants, deep, full shade presents its own set of problems. In an environment with less than 2 hours of dappled light, we struggle to produce enough energy. You will notice our stems becoming elongated and spindly as we desperately stretch towards any available light source—a condition you call becoming "leggy." Our foliage will be fewer and farther between, and our most glorious feature, our blooms, will be sparse or non-existent. We need light to create flowers; without it, we simply cannot perform.
We are quite communicative about our light satisfaction through our appearance. Lush, deep green foliage and a prolific display of continuous flowers from spring until frost are our way of telling you we are content. If we are wilting consistently in the afternoon even with adequate water, or our leaves are bleaching and scorching, we are pleading for relief from the sun. If we are becoming tall with large gaps between leaves and producing very few flowers, we are quietly asking for a bit more light. Observing these signals is the best way to ensure we thrive together.
