From my perspective as a thyme plant, the first sign of trouble is not the wilting leaves you see above the soil. It begins unseen, in my root zone, the rhizosphere. This is my world, where I absorb water and nutrients. Normally, the soil particles are separated by air pockets, allowing my roots to breathe. The problem starts when these air pockets vanish, replaced by water. I am a Mediterranean herb, built for gritty, well-drained soils. My roots are not equipped for constant saturation. When waterlogged, they begin to suffocate. The delicate root hairs, responsible for most of my water uptake, start to die off first. This is the initial stage of the rot you call "root rot." It is, fundamentally, a case of drowning.
The physical suffocation is only the beginning. The waterlogged soil creates an environment where anaerobic fungi, like species of *Pythium* and *Phytophthora*, thrive. These are opportunistic pathogens. They are always present, but a healthy, oxygenated root system can resist them. When my roots are weakened and damaged from lack of oxygen, they become easy targets. These fungi recognize my distress. They release enzymes that break down the cell walls of my roots. From my point of view, it feels like a slow, creeping decay. The roots that should be firm and white become soft, brown, and slimy. They can no longer function. This is the secondary, biological phase of the disease, but it is a direct consequence of the primary environmental stress you have placed me in.
As my root system fails, the effects travel throughout my entire structure. My roots are my mouth and my anchor. Without them, I cannot drink. The first signal you will see is the wilting of my leaves, even though the soil is wet. This is a paradox for you, but for me, it is a desperate cry. My leaves are wilting because the damaged roots cannot transport water upwards. Furthermore, without a functional root system, I cannot absorb essential nutrients like nitrogen and potassium. My growth will stall. My leaves, once a vibrant green, may turn yellow (chlorosis) or brown as they die from thirst and starvation. The problem that started underground has now become a full-system collapse.
If you catch the problem early, I can recover. My survival depends on you recreating the dry, aerated environment I crave. First, you must gently remove me from the soggy prison of the current pot. Carefully wash the old, diseased soil from my roots. This is a delicate operation. Using sterilized scissors, you must prune away all the soft, brown, and rotten roots. This is painful but necessary; it removes the decaying tissue and the pathogens feasting on it. Then, please repot me in a clean container with excellent drainage holes, using a fresh, fast-draining potting mix. I would greatly appreciate a mix amended with perlite, coarse sand, or gravel to ensure water flows through quickly. When you water me again, do so thoroughly but only when the top inch of soil is completely dry. My plea is for you to understand my natural habitat and mimic it. I do not want constant moisture; I need cycles of thorough watering followed by a period of drought that allows my roots to access precious oxygen.
