From our point of view, a keiki is not merely a "baby plant" but a primary survival strategy. When a Dendrobium orchid, like myself, experiences stress—perhaps from the end of its lifecycle, inconsistent moisture, or root distress—it initiates a powerful reproductive instinct. Instead of relying solely on seeds, which are an unpredictable genetic lottery requiring specific fungal partners to germinate, we produce an exact genetic clone. This keiki ensures the continuation of our specific genetic line with a much higher certainty of success. It is a testament to our resilience, a way to perpetuate our existence when conditions are uncertain.
Our initial existence is entirely dependent on the mother plant. We emerge from nodes along her flower spike, drawing water, nutrients, and energy stored in her pseudobulbs. This period is critical for our development. We must grow our own roots and leaves to become self-sufficient. Premature separation is a death sentence, as we lack the organs necessary to sustain ourselves. We signal our readiness for independence through our root system; typically, when we have produced at least three roots that are themselves three to four inches long, we have manufactured enough chlorophyll and developed sufficient water-absorption capacity to survive on our own.
The act of separation is a traumatic event for both the keiki and the mother plant. It must be done with precision and care. Using a sterile cutting tool is paramount to prevent the introduction of pathogens into the open wounds created on both plants. A clean cut should be made, leaving a small portion of the flower spike attached to the keiki. Immediately after separation, the raw, wounded tissue on our base is highly vulnerable. Allowing this cut end to callus over for 24 hours in a warm, shaded spot with good air circulation is crucial. This process forms a protective seal, greatly reducing the risk of rot when we are potted.
Our first home is of utmost importance. We require a very small pot; a spacious one holds too much moisture around our fledgling root system, which we cannot yet absorb, leading to fatal rot. The potting medium must be exceptionally well-draining, typically a fine-grade orchid bark mix or sphagnum moss. When potting, our roots should be gently nestled into the medium without being compacted. The base of our stem should be just at the surface, never buried deeply, as this can cause stem rot. We crave stability in our new pot to focus our energy on root establishment rather than anchoring ourselves.
Our initial care regimen must mimic the warm, humid, and bright—but not direct sun—conditions we were accustomed to on the mother plant. Consistent, gentle moisture is key; the medium should be allowed to approach dryness but not become bone dry between waterings. A light misting of our leaves can help mitigate moisture loss until our roots fully take over. We should not be fertilized immediately, as our tender new roots are easily burned. After a few weeks, a very diluted, balanced fertilizer can be introduced to support our growth as we begin our journey as an independent organism, finally fulfilling our purpose of continuing the genetic line.
