You see a wilting leaf; I feel a desperate struggle beneath the soil. My roots are suffocating, either drowning in stagnant, waterlogged earth or parched and brittle from neglect. This is my foundation, my entire existence. Compacted soil feels like a prison, crushing my delicate root hairs and preventing them from absorbing the vital water and nutrients I need to send to my leaves. Alternatively, a pot without proper drainage is a death sentence, creating a swamp where rot sets in. My first plea is to check my feet. Is the soil consistently moist but never soggy, like a well-wrung sponge? That is the equilibrium I crave.
I am not a greedy feeder, but I am a particular one. My roots are sensitive and easily burned by harsh, synthetic fertilizers or an overdose of nutrients. A sudden yellowing of my leaves might be your sign that my soil chemistry is all wrong. I thrive in slightly acidic soil. If the pH is too high (alkaline), I am locked in a nutrient prison, unable to access the iron I need, which leads to chlorosis—those yellow leaves with green veins you might see. Please, test the soil. I may simply need a gentle, ericaceous feed or a mulch of well-rotted leaf mould to acidify my environment and unlock the nourishment I so desperately require.
I detest change. You brought me home, a place with perfect dappled light, shelter from harsh winds, and cool roots. Then, perhaps you moved me. Or perhaps a tree grew and now I am in deep shadow, or a wall was removed and I am now exposed to the scorching afternoon sun. This environmental shock sends me into a spiral of stress. I need bright, indirect light. My roots also appreciate the cool shade of a companion plant or a light mulch, while my foliage basks in gentle warmth. Please, find me a settled home and do not move me. Consistency is the greatest kindness you can offer me.
While I am struggling, weakened by poor conditions, I become vulnerable. Tiny vampires like spider mites suck the very life from my leaves, or fungal pathogens like powdery mildew coat them, blocking the sunlight I need to photosynthesize. You might see webbing, speckled leaves, or a white powder. This is not the primary cause of my decline, but a secondary assault that will finish me off. A gentle spray of water can dislodge mites, and improving air circulation around my branches can discourage fungus. Please, look closely. Helping me fight these invaders gives me a fighting chance to recover from my core ailments.
