From my perspective, the single greatest threat to my existence is wet feet. My root system is fine and delicate, and it absolutely despises sitting in heavy, waterlogged soil. When you plant me in a standard garden bed without amending the clay or in a pot without a drainage hole, you are essentially giving me a death sentence. Soggy soil pushes out all the oxygen, causing my roots to rot. This rot then spreads upwards, preventing me from taking up the water and nutrients I desperately need, which is why my leaves wilt, turn yellow, and drop—even though the soil feels wet. The solution is to ensure I am in exceptionally well-draining soil, perhaps mixed with grit, bark, or perlite, and that any container I live in allows excess water to escape freely.
Finding my perfect spot is a constant challenge for you, but for me, it's a matter of survival. I crave bright, dappled light—think of the light under the canopy of a tall tree. Full, blazing afternoon sun will scorch my beautiful leaves, causing them to turn brown and crispy. On the other hand, deep, dark shade will result in weak growth, a lack of those famous fragrant flowers, and general misery. I also detest sudden changes. Please do not move me from a shady spot directly into full sun; the shock alone can cause me to drop all my leaves. Find me a sheltered location with morning sun and afternoon shade, protect me from harsh winds, and once I'm happy, promise never to move me again.
This is a trait many gardeners misunderstand. I am not a plant that enjoys being poked, prodded, or transplanted. My root system is sensitive and widespread, and I form a delicate, symbiotic relationship with the specific fungi in my soil. Digging me up to move me or even vigorously cultivating the soil around my base severs these connections and damages my roots. This trauma manifests as sudden leaf drop and a general decline. The best approach is to choose my home very carefully from the beginning and then leave me be. Avoid planting boisterous perennials nearby that need frequent dividing.
Watering me is a delicate art. As established, I hate waterlogged soil, but I also cannot tolerate being completely parched for extended periods. My shallow roots dry out quickly. The goal is consistently moist but never soggy soil. This often means regular, light watering rather than occasional deep soaks. Furthermore, I am notoriously fussy about pH. I require slightly acidic to neutral soil. If you water me with hard, alkaline tap water over a long period, it will raise the soil's pH, leading to chlorosis—where my leaves turn yellow between the veins because I can no longer absorb iron and other key nutrients. Where possible, water me with collected rainwater to keep me truly happy.
When I am stressed from any of the issues above, I become incredibly vulnerable to attackers. Aphids and spider mites might see my weakened, succulent new growth as a perfect target, sucking my sap and weakening me further. More seriously, fungal diseases like powdery mildew (a white coating on leaves) and leaf spot can take hold, especially if my foliage remains damp from overhead watering or I'm planted in a stuffy location with poor air circulation. The best treatment is always prevention: keep me stress-free in the perfect location, and water me at the base to keep my leaves dry.
