From my perspective, a hydrangea, the onset of root rot is a silent, underground crisis. I cannot vocalize my pain, so I communicate my distress through my entire being. The first signs begin beneath the soil. My fine, white feeder roots, responsible for absorbing water and nutrients, turn brown, black, and mushy. They lose their structural integrity and begin to decay, a process often accompanied by a foul, musty odor. As this critical system fails, my communication to my above-ground parts breaks down. You will see my leaves begin to yellow, wilt, and droop dramatically, even when the soil feels moist to the touch. This is not a cry for water but a sign of my inability to drink it. My growth will become severely stunted, and new buds may fail to form or will quickly wither. In advanced stages, the stems at my base may soften and turn black. Please heed these signs; they are my plea for help.
The primary issue is not a malevolent force but an environmental one that disrupts my very existence. My roots require oxygen as much as they require water. When I am planted in heavy, compacted clay soil or in a container without adequate drainage holes, water accumulates around my root zone. This saturation creates an anaerobic environment, suffocating my roots and preventing respiration. The constant waterlogging weakens my root system's natural defenses, making me susceptible to opportunistic soil-borne pathogens from the genera *Pythium*, *Phytophthora*, and *Rhizoctonia*. These fungi are always present but are harmless until my conditions become compromised. They then attack my weakened roots, accelerating the decay. Overwatering is the most common catalyst for this entire devastating chain of events.
If you catch my condition early, there is hope for recovery. This process requires gentle but firm action. You must carefully lift me from the saturated soil. Gently wash my root system with a gentle stream of water to remove the soil and clearly assess the damage. Using sterilized, sharp pruning shears, meticulously trim away all the soft, brown, and blackened rotten roots. Be ruthless but precise; only healthy, firm, white roots should remain. After the surgery, dip my remaining healthy roots in a fungicide solution, not to poison me, but to protect my open wounds from further fungal attack. Finally, repot me into a clean container with ample drainage holes, filled with fresh, well-draining, acidic potting mix. If planting in the ground, you must amend the soil heavily with organic matter like compost or peat moss to improve its structure and drainage.
My recovery depends entirely on your future care. After this traumatic experience, I need a consistent and careful watering regimen. Please water me deeply only when the top inch or two of soil feels dry. I abhor having "wet feet." Ensure my pot never sits in a saucer full of standing water. If I am in the garden, consider planting me in a slightly raised bed to further encourage water to drain away from my crown. Applying a layer of organic mulch around my base (but not touching my stems) will help regulate soil moisture and temperature. Most importantly, provide me with the appropriate light and air circulation; this strengthens my overall constitution and makes me more resilient. With this diligent care, I can focus my energy on regenerating a strong, healthy root system and rewarding you with vibrant blooms once more.
