From my perspective as a ZZ plant, winter is not a time of death or decline, but a period of essential rest. You might notice that my growth has slowed significantly, or even stopped entirely. This is my dormancy period, a survival strategy deeply ingrained in my genetic code. Originating from the arid regions of Eastern Africa, I am accustomed to seasonal shifts in light and water availability. The shorter days and lower light intensity of winter signal to my rhizomes—the thick, potato-like storage organs at my roots—that it is time to conserve energy. I am not being lazy; I am being smart. My metabolic processes slow down to a bare minimum. I am not actively producing new stems and leaves because my primary goal is to preserve the energy and water stored within my rhizomes to survive until spring returns.
This shift in my internal state is why your watering habits must change dramatically. During the vibrant growth of spring and summer, I happily drink the water you provide, using it to fuel my expansion. But in winter, I am essentially hibernating. My water requirements plummet. The most common threat to my well-being during this season is not thirst, but drowning. If you continue to water me on a summer schedule, the water will sit in the soil around my rhizomes. Since I am not actively absorbing it, the soil remains wet for a prolonged period. This creates an anaerobic environment that is a breeding ground for root rot, a fungal condition that will attack and decay my rhizomes. Once rot sets in, it is difficult to stop and can be fatal.
So, how do you know when I need a drink? You must learn to read my cues and the soil's condition. Do not water me on a calendar schedule. Instead, physically check the soil. Insert your finger or a wooden chopstick deep into the potting mix, near the edge of the pot. If you feel any moisture or if the stick comes out with damp soil clinging to it, I do not need water. You should only water me when the soil is completely dry all the way through. In many indoor settings, this might mean waiting three, four, or even five weeks between waterings. When you do water, do so thoroughly, allowing water to flow freely from the drainage holes, but ensure that I am never left sitting in a saucer of water. The goal is to provide a deep, infrequent drink that mimics the rare downpours of my native habitat, followed by a long period of drought that allows my roots and rhizomes to breathe.
While watering is the most critical adjustment, other elements of my environment also support my dormant state. I am tolerant of lower light, but I still need some ambient light to perform basic functions. Please keep me away from cold drafts from windows or doors, as temperatures below 45°F (7°C) can cause significant damage to my tissues. Similarly, keep me clear of hot air vents, as the sudden blast of dry heat can be stressful. You do not need to fertilize me at all during the winter. My system cannot process those nutrients right now, and the salts in fertilizer will simply build up in the soil, potentially harming my roots. My only request is for stability—a quiet, moderately lit corner where I can rest undisturbed until the increasing daylight of spring gently nudges me awake.
