From my perspective as a Nerine bowdenii, water is a source of life but also my greatest peril. My origins lie in the rocky, well-drained slopes of South Africa, a history written into the very structure of my being. I am a bulb, a self-contained storage unit of energy and moisture. This means I am built for periods of drought. My primary need is not for constant moisture, but for a cycle: a clear, distinct period of hydration followed by a period of dryness. The American household, with its tendency towards regular, generous watering, can be a confusing and dangerous environment for me. My roots are fine and susceptible to suffocation; they need air as much as they need water. When you water me, you are not just quenching a thirst; you are creating an environment around my bulb. That environment must drain away swiftly, leaving my roots moist but not drowned.
To understand my watering needs, you must first understand my annual cycle. After I finish my spectacular autumn bloom, I enter a period of growth. Throughout the winter and spring, my leaves are green and active, photosynthesizing and storing energy in my bulb. During this time, I appreciate consistent but moderate watering. However, the most critical phase comes in the late summer. My leaves will begin to yellow and die back. This is not a sign of neglect or death; it is my dormant period. From my point of view, this is a time of rest and internal preparation for the flowering burst ahead. During this dormancy, my need for water plummets to almost zero. If you continue to water me out of habit while I am dormant, you are creating a cold, wet environment around my dormant bulb—the perfect condition for the fungal pathogens that cause root rot to attack. My defenses are low, and my bulb can quickly become a soft, rotting mass. Please, respect my rest.
When the air begins to cool in early autumn, I signal the end of my dormancy by sending up a naked flower stalk. This is your cue. The appearance of the bud is the signal that my roots are becoming active again. At this point, a thorough watering is welcome. It helps the flower stalk grow tall and the blooms open fully. After flowering, my strappy leaves will emerge. Throughout the leaf-growing period (fall, winter, spring), I need a regular watering routine. The key is to water deeply when the top inch of my soil feels dry to your touch, then allow the excess to drain completely. I would much rather experience a slight thirst than have my "feet" sitting in a saucer of water. Soggy soil fills the air pockets, and my roots, unable to breathe, will begin to decay. Once this rot sets in, it can spread to my bulb, compromising my entire existence.
Your watering habits are only half the story. The medium I live in is equally critical from my perspective. A standard, moisture-retentive potting mix is a death sentence for me. It holds water like a sponge, directly contradicting my need for sharp drainage. I require a gritty, sharply draining mix. A blend formulated for cacti and succulents, or even better, a custom mix with plenty of perlite, pumice, or coarse sand, is ideal. This type of soil structure allows water to flow through quickly, delivering hydration to my roots while letting the excess escape and allowing oxygen to reach them. Similarly, the pot you choose must have ample drainage holes. A pot without a hole is a bathtub, and I am not a water lily. A terracotta pot is particularly beneficial because the porous clay allows the soil to dry out more evenly from the sides as well as the bottom. By pairing your careful watering with the right physical environment, you create the conditions for me to thrive, not just survive.
