From my perspective, rooted here in my pot, the most critical difference between your overwatering and underwatering begins where you cannot see: with my roots. When you are too generous with water, you create a suffocating environment. The soil becomes waterlogged, driving out the oxygen that my roots need to breathe and function. They begin to rot, turning from a healthy white to a mushy, dark brown or black. This rot is a slow, systemic poison for me; it prevents me from taking up water and nutrients, ironically leading to symptoms of thirst. Conversely, when you forget to water, my roots are left in a dry, hard medium. They become brittle, shriveled, and may even pull away from the edges of the pot. They are desperate for a drink, but there is simply nothing to absorb. In both cases, the root system is compromised, but the initial cause—drowning or drought—dictates the entire chain of events that you see above the soil.
My leaves are my most expressive feature, and they communicate my distress clearly if you know how to listen. Overwatering causes my leaves to turn a generalized, often widespread yellow. This yellowing typically starts with the older, lower leaves first. The leaves feel soft and limp, and despite the soil being wet, they wilt because the rotten roots cannot transport water to them. You might even see blisters or water-soaked spots, a condition called edema, where my cells have taken in so much water they rupture. Underwatering tells a different story. My leaves will turn yellow as well, but they often become dry, crispy, and brittle to the touch. The yellowing may be more patchy or start at the tips and edges of the leaves, particularly on the newer growth. The most telling sign is the wilting; my leaves will droop pathetically, but they feel dry and papery, not soft. They are literally shrinking from a lack of turgor pressure.
The medium I live in provides crucial clues. Before you even water me again, press a finger into my soil. If it feels consistently cold, soggy, and clings to your finger days after watering, you are drowning me. A musty, unpleasant odor is a sure sign of root rot setting in below the surface. My growth will be severely stunted or completely halted, as I lack the healthy roots to support new leaves. In the case of underwatering, the soil will be dry, hard, and may even have pulled away from the sides of the pot. It will feel warm and crumbly. When you do water, it may run straight through without being absorbed because the soil has become hydrophobic. My growth will also be slow, but the primary issue is a lack of the fundamental building block for photosynthesis: water.
The simplest way to understand my needs is to engage your sense of touch. Do not rely on a fixed schedule. Instead, feel my soil. I prefer to approach dryness between drinks. Insert your finger about an inch or two into the soil. If it feels moist, cool, and any soil sticks to your skin, please wait. I do not need more water. If it feels dry, crumbly, and your finger comes out clean, that is my signal that I am ready for a thorough, deep watering. This method allows you to respond to my actual condition, which changes with the seasons, the light I receive, and the humidity in the air. It is the most direct way to avoid both the swamp and the desert, and keep me thriving.
