From my perspective, the problem begins unseen, beneath the soil. My roots, which are my mouth and my anchor, require both water and air from the spaces in the potting mix. When those spaces are constantly filled with water, I start to suffocate. I cannot breathe. The first sign I show you above the soil is a general wilt. You might mistake this for thirst and water me more, worsening my plight. My leaves, normally firm and fragrant, become limp, soft, and may turn a dull yellow or brown, starting with the older leaves near the base. This is not a cry for water; it is a gasp for air as my root system begins to die.
My compromised, waterlogged state creates a weakness that opportunistic soil-borne pathogens, like Pythium or Phytophthora fungi, exploit. These organisms are always present but are harmless to a strong, healthy plant like me. To a suffocating root system, they are a death sentence. They attack my soft, decaying roots, causing them to turn dark brown or black, become mushy, and lose their sturdy, white appearance. This rot spreads, severing my connection to the water and nutrients in the soil. Even if the soil is wet, I cannot drink because my means to do so are rotting away. The wilt intensifies, and my growth halts completely as I divert all my dwindling energy to survival.
If you catch the problem early, I can be saved. The first thing I need is for you to stop watering me immediately. You must gently lift me from my pot. You will see and smell the damage—the foul, decaying odor of my sick roots. Carefully wash away the soggy soil from my root ball with water. This is a delicate process. Using sterilized shears, you must prune away all the dark, slimy roots, leaving only the healthy, firm, white ones. This removes the infection and gives me a fighting chance. Then, you must repot me into a clean container with excellent drainage holes, using a completely new, well-draining potting mix. A blend formulated for cacti or succulents, amended with extra perlite or coarse sand, is ideal for me, a Mediterranean herb that despises wet feet.
To ensure I never have to endure this again, my environment must mimic my native habitat. This means the single most important rule is to water me only when I truly need it. Before watering, you must check the soil. Push your finger about two inches down—if it feels moist, wait. I prefer to be on the drier side rather than constantly damp. My pot must have unobstructed drainage holes, and I should never be left sitting in a saucer of water. The potting mix itself is crucial; it must be loose and gritty to allow excess water to flow through quickly and for air to reach my roots. Finally, ensure I get plenty of bright, direct sunlight and good air circulation around my leaves, which helps the soil dry appropriately between drinks.
