From my perspective, the journey indoors begins with a significant shock to my system. I have spent the growing season basking in the full, intense energy of the sun. Moving me to the dimmer, artificial light of your home is a profound change. My leaves, optimized for maximum photosynthesis outdoors, may find your brightest south-facing window to be barely adequate. I will likely respond by stretching my stems weakly toward the light source, a process you call etiolation. To help me, please acclimate me gradually if possible, and provide the sunniest spot you have. Without sufficient light, my internal energy reserves will deplete, making survival through winter a much greater challenge.
My water needs undergo a dramatic shift indoors. The combination of lower light levels, cooler indoor temperatures, and often pot-bound roots means my metabolic processes slow down considerably. I enter a semi-dormant state. Consequently, my thirst diminishes nearly to nothing. The greatest threat to my survival now is your kindness—the desire to water me. Soggy, cold soil around my roots is a death sentence, leading to rot and a swift demise. Please test the soil deeply; it should be almost completely dry before you consider offering a modest drink. I prefer a state of slight underwatering to having my roots drown.
My leaves are not prepared for the desert-like conditions of your heated home. Central heating systems create an atmosphere with extremely low humidity, which is utterly foreign to me. This arid air pulls moisture from my foliage faster than my slowed roots can replace it. You will see my response in the crisp, brown edges of my leaves and perhaps some leaf drop. This is a stress signal, not necessarily a sign of death. To assist, you could occasionally mist the air around me (not directly on my leaves for long periods) or place my pot on a pebble tray with water, ensuring I am not sitting in the water itself. This creates a slightly more humid microclimate.
I do not want to overwinter in your warm living room. My ideal indoor environment is cool, between 40-60°F (5-15°C). A slightly chilly garage, a basement window, or an unheated sunroom is perfect. This cool temperature helps me maintain my dormancy, conserves my energy, and reduces the need for water. Furthermore, stagnant air is my enemy, encouraging fungal diseases like powdery mildew. Please ensure I have gentle air circulation; a small fan set on low at a distance can make a significant difference in keeping my foliage healthy and discouraging pests like spider mites that thrive in still, dry air.
As the days begin to lengthen noticeably, I will sense the coming change. You may see feeble new growth, a sign that my system is awakening. This is the time to begin preparing me for my return to the outdoors. Do not move me directly into full sun. Just as the transition in was a shock, the transition out must be gradual. Begin by placing me in dappled shade for a few hours a day, slowly increasing my exposure over a week or two. Once the danger of frost has passed and I am reacclimated, you can repot me if I am root-bound and return me to my summer home in the garden, where I can truly thrive again.
