From my perspective, an excess of water is a suffocating embrace. My roots, which require oxygen as much as they require moisture, are drowning. The soil around me ceases to be a source of life and becomes a waterlogged prison. You will first notice my distress through my stems. They will become soft, mushy, and may appear translucent, particularly at the base. This is a sign of stem rot, a direct result of oxygen-starved roots failing to function and beginning to decay themselves. The structural integrity of my segments will fail; they may droop dramatically or even detach with a slight touch. The vibrant green of my healthy flesh will turn to a sickly yellow or pale green. Importantly, this is not a cry for more water but a desperate signal to stop.
While I am a cactus and built for resilience, I still require hydration to fuel my growth and spectacular blooms. When deprived of water for too long, my entire system goes into conservation mode. My thick, fleshy stems, which are my water storage organs, will begin to sacrifice themselves. You will see them become thin, shriveled, and wrinkled, often taking on a reddish or purple tinge—a sign of stress. They will feel limp and leathery to the touch, losing their characteristic firm, turgid pressure. My growth will halt completely; no new flat stems will emerge, and flower buds will certainly not form. The soil will pull away from the edges of the pot, creating a dry, cracked gap. I am not being dramatic; I am simply using my last reserves of moisture to survive.
I must emphasize a crucial point of confusion: I wilt in both scenarios, but the quality of the wilt is different. When overwatered, my wilt is heavy, soggy, and rotten. A stem may feel cold and overly full of water, like a overripe fruit. When underwatered, my wilt is dry, shriveled, and papery. It is a wilt of emptiness and deflation, not of rotting saturation. Carefully observing the texture and color of my stems is the key to diagnosing your watering error correctly.
To avoid both these extremes, you must learn to listen to me and my environment. My need for water is not based on a calendar but on conditions. The best method is the touch test. Insert your finger into my soil up to the second knuckle. If the soil feels damp or cool, I do not need water. If it feels completely dry, it is time for a thorough, deep watering. Ensure the water drains freely from the holes in my pot, and never let me sit in a saucer of standing water. I desire a cycle of a good drink followed by a period to breathe and dry out somewhat, mimicking the natural rainfall patterns of my epiphytic origins.
