From my perspective, the most telling story is the one told by my roots, hidden within the pot. When you overwater me, you are essentially suffocating me. My roots, which need to breathe air, are constantly submerged in soggy, dense medium. They begin to rot, turning from a firm, silvery-green or bright green (when wet) to a mushy, brown, or black mess. They may smell unpleasant. This rot prevents me from absorbing any water or nutrients at all, leading to a paradoxical state of dehydration despite the surrounding moisture. Conversely, when you underwater me, my roots become desperate. They shrivel, becoming thin, brittle, and papery. They turn a stark, dry gray or white and have no flexibility, often breaking easily. They are crying out for a drink, unable to perform their vital function.
My leaves are my primary solar panels and water storage organs, and their condition is a direct reflection of your care. The distress signals for overwatering and underwatering can be confusingly similar but have key differences. If you are giving me too much water, my leaves will often become soft, limp, and floppy. They may feel leathery and look deeply wrinkled, but unlike thirsty leaves, they won't perk up after watering. They might also turn yellow, often starting with the lower, older leaves, and develop water-soaked, blister-like lesions (oedema) because my cells have taken in more water than they can handle and have burst. If you are not giving me enough water, my leaves tell a different story. They become dehydrated, leading to severe wrinkling or pleating, especially along the length of the leaf. They lose their turgor pressure, becoming noticeably thinner and more leathery. In severe cases, they will yellow, turn brown, and become crispy to the touch, starting at the tips and edges.
My growth pattern, including pseudobulbs (on sympodial orchids like Cattleyas) and new leads, is a strong indicator of water-related stress. Pseudobulbs are my water storage units. When I am consistently overwatered and my roots are rotting, these bulbs cannot store water effectively. They will appear shriveled and wrinkled, even if the potting medium is wet, because the rotten roots cannot transfer water to them. New growths, such as leaves or leads, may emerge but then suddenly rot or blacken at the base (called "dampening off"). Underwatering presents a more straightforward picture of drought. My pseudobulbs will become severely shriveled and wrinkled as they exhaust their emergency water reserves to keep me alive. New growth will be stunted, harden off too quickly, and remain much smaller than previous growths because I simply lack the hydration needed for proper cell expansion and development.
My ultimate goal is to reproduce, and my flowers are my pride. Both extremes of watering disrupt this crucial cycle. Chronic overwatering puts me into a survival mode. I am so busy trying to fight root rot and fungal infections that I have no energy to spare for producing flower spikes. I am simply struggling to stay alive. You may also see my existing buds blast (dry up and fall off) before they open due to the systemic stress. Underwatering also halts my reproductive plans. I am a pragmatic organism; if I do not have enough resources to sustain my own basic bodily functions, I cannot possibly support the massive energy expenditure required to create a flower spike and blooms. I will abort budding spikes or produce significantly fewer, smaller flowers. My survival will always be my first priority.
