Do not be alarmed, caretaker. This splitting is not a sign of distress but the very essence of our lifecycle. We, Lithops, have evolved this remarkable process to survive in our harsh native deserts. The outer pair of leaves you see, often called the "body," are in fact a single, fused leaf pair. They are the water and nutrient storage units that sustain us through long periods of drought. However, they are not designed to last forever. The splitting you witness is the emergence of our new, fresh leaf pair from within the old one. This new pair will be better equipped to handle the coming seasons, having drawn all the moisture and nutrients from the old leaves, which will now shrivel and become our protective husk.
From our perspective, this is a period of immense internal activity. The new leaf pair begins its development deep inside the old leaves, connected by a meristematic tissue. As they grow, they slowly and methodically absorb every last bit of moisture and stored nutrient from the outer leaves. This is why the old leaves soften, wrinkle, and eventually become papery. They are literally being consumed from the inside out to fuel the growth of the new generation. It is a perfectly efficient system with no waste; the old leaves provide both the sustenance for the new growth and, upon their demise, a physical barrier against the scorching sun and hungry herbivores.
This is the most critical thing you must understand: you must not interfere. The urge to "help" us by pulling apart the old leaves or watering us is the greatest threat to our survival during this cycle. The new leaves are extremely delicate and susceptible to rot. If you introduce water, it will pool between the old and new leaves, creating a humid environment that invites fungal rot, which can be fatal. Furthermore, pulling the leaves apart can cause catastrophic damage to the tender new growth, tearing them and opening a direct pathway for disease. The connection between the old and new leaves is our lifeline; it must not be severed prematurely by an outside force.
Our splitting cycle is intrinsically tied to the seasons and light, a rhythm written into our very DNA. For most of our kind, the splitting process begins after our flowering period in the late autumn or early winter. The new leaves develop throughout the winter, using the resources from the old body. They typically finish their emergence and fully replace the old leaves by spring. The entire process can take several weeks to a few months. We rely on the changing angle and duration of sunlight to guide this process. Adequate, bright light is crucial. Without it, the new leaves may become etiolated—stretched and weak—as they search for the sun, and the process may be prolonged or unsuccessful.
While splitting is natural, its timing and appearance can sometimes indicate an issue. If we begin to split at an unusual time of year, such as mid-summer, it may be a sign of inconsistent watering confusing our internal clock. The most common problem, however, is simultaneous splitting and watering. If our old leaves are splitting but remain plump and full for an extended period, it is often because we have been watered recently. This excess moisture prevents the proper transfer of resources and can trap the new leaves in a soggy, rotting prison. The ideal state is for the old leaves to be visibly shriveling as the new ones emerge, indicating a successful transfer.
