Lessons From Plants

I don't speak plant. I never have. That being said, I've got over 70 plants living in my house and on my balcony. I love how it feels to see them grow and thrive. Seeing them suffer causes me grief and anxiety. But my plants are teaching me a lot about life, and about myself...also about plants.

Not sure where to start, so I'll start with this guy who brings me great joy.

This is my Monstera Deliciosa. Also known as a split leaf philodendron... it is apparently not really related to the philodendron. In any case, he is a juvenile, so his leaves are not split yet. Supposedly, each leaf has its own genetic makeup that determines whether or not it will be split. So it doesn't split later. The leaf is what it is, and eventually, "split" leaves will start to emerge. He changes daily, which satisfies the impatient side of me. He has three new leaves unfurled, and another on the way. With each leaf, I look carefully to see if this one will be the first one with a split. So far, he's not old enough to get splits...but he is absolutely beautiful nonetheless. His leaves are so green and bright and glossy. I put a moss pole in there for him, which he hasn't taken advantage of yet, but he likely will as he gets older. This guy tells me I'm bad-ass and can grow beautiful plants.

This guy tells me I'm full of shit.

In a sense, he keeps me humble. In reality, several of my plants do that. This is a desert rose plant. He has looked like this for at least a month. He arrived bare root and bare leaf. Just like this basically. Exactly like this. I don't know how you tell one of these things is dead or alive. Apparently, when stressed, they drop all their leaves. Then magically come back to life. So.... I don't know. He just hangs out and occasionally gets watered. He's basically a soft stick.

This guy has been through so much. It wants a lot of light. And not a lot of room around its roots. It was doing so well before I moved down here- before I stopped giving it lots of light, and when it floundered, I decided it needed more room around its roots.

This is a China Doll plant, and it is teaching me that I don't get to decide what a plant wants. It wants to be in this little pot (for now) and it wants to be in this spot. I can't argue. It's been so resilient over the last 9 months. Now it's sprouting all sorts of new growth, so I just need to leave it be.

This guy. I don't even know what to do about this guy.

This is a variegated rubber plant. And he is not dead. I know this because when he's happy, his leaves point up (according to the internet). See those two top leaves? They're pointing up. Good. Great. So what's the problem? Since I've gotten him, he's lost a leaf, and developed brown spots on several others. And strangely, he has not grown since I got him. Months ago. I keep checking the little pink tip in the middle that should, in theory, start to grow. Nothing. In months. Nothing. Just up and down movement of the leaves. I obviously do not have this thing figured out.

His cousin (also quite new, so I just haven't had the chance to ruin it yet) a Cabernet rubber plant, is doing marvelously and is quite stunning. The picture does not do it justice.

Beautiful, glossy, healthy new leaves popping up left and right. It seems unconcerned that it is now left in my hands. It just does its beautiful thing. Which leads me to believe there is something going on with his variegated friend. Where have I gone wrong?

Because of my impatience, I love plants that change every day. That's why I love this guy. He's an alocasia calidora.... and he's supposed to get huge. Here he is on February 23rd:

Just a wee little guy. I put him in a big pot for a reason. A little over a month later (March 29th), he's sprouted a much larger leaf and has another on the way.

His old leaves are falling to the side, for comparison. I'm learning that too. With a lot of these, the leaves don't grow much after they emerge. You just keep getting bigger and bigger leaves emerging.

Then there's the Calathea. Calatheas are notoriously difficult to grow. As a beginner gardener, I didn't even know what it was when I got it. Most plants from Home Depot are labeled vaguely. This guy was labeled "Assorted Tropical Plant".

I don't know. I don't know what it wants. It refuses to tell me. You can see some yellowing (and browning) there. That's a hint at an issue. But the thing is, it tends to get droopy leaves when it's upset with me. Then the leaves perk up when it's doing well. The leaves have perked up, two new leaves have arrived (showing some sort of health, no?).... except one of those new leaves arrived with browning on it. What the heck? This plant has a wonderful velvety texture, which I absolutely love. But it is neither thriving, nor dying. I'm just not sure how to make it happy. Maybe it just needs time? Maybe I expect too much? Maybe I expect it to be perfect like the monstera in my living room.

So. I do a lot of research. I read tons of web pages, which unfortunately all say different things. I can tell you that a monstera is NOT a low light plant as some sites want you to believe. There's also no such thing as a plant that does not need any light at all. The whole thing about plants is that they do the photosynthesis thing. Photo=light. Sunlight to be exact. I do have a few low light plants, and they're doing ok.

After finishing an avocado, I decided to try my hand at growing a tree from the pit. Just for fun. I planted 5 acorns back in December and they've all sprouted into healthy seedlings. How much more difficult can an avocado be?

Well for one, they're a little slower. But here he is!

I read that when he reaches 6 inches tall, I should cut him back 3 inches (or to 3 inches... depending on the website..which if he's 6 inches, that's the same thing....if you wait until he's 8 inches...what do you do?). There he is. Tall and proud.

And yet.... I was supposed to slice him in half. Oh the agony. The faith required to do such a thing (I read about faith with my dwarf umbrella bonsai, which I'll get to next) is pretty tough. The thing that makes this one less tough is that I just ordered a few more avocados to be delivered in my veggie box on Thursday, so if this thing dies, I've got backup. So I snipped him.

Not as far as I was supposed to, but I felt really bad. According to my research, avocado trees are apical dominant. So they get really tall and leggy. If you clip him, he's forced to spread out laterally and become more bushy. We'll see. In the meantime, I'll work on sprouting the next couple of avocados.

Oh the dwarf umbrella bonsai. Such a beautiful specimen. Reminds me of a palm tree in the tropics.

But he's tall and leggy. I found a forum that suggested a website that says I should just totally stump the thing. Several people swore by it. And apparently propagating the thing is fairly easily, so the top you lob off just becomes another plant. Oh how I doubt all that. But the website also talked about risk, and having faith that it's going to work out.  I can sympathize with that. I have taken a lot of risk in my life, and so far so good. So I brought him down to a semi-stump.

And now I wait.

That's lesson number one with all of these plants. Over winter, they really didn't do much. Turns out even indoor plants go dormant in winter. Big lesson there. But now that it's spring and they're starting to become much more active...I just expect them all to branch out into huge healthy plants. Turns out it's not that easy. A plant will find its way the best it knows how. I don't get to decide that. I can only pay close attention to how it responds to every change, and hope for the best.

Today I helped my Coastal Redwood seeds (and other seeds) chase the sun around my apartment as I waited for the painters to no-show.

Giant redwoods take time apparently....even to sprout. I watched how the sun moved across the room throughout the day. With the changing season, it's different than it was a couple months ago, and I haven't been home all day to see the changes. It was nice to spend the day chasing the sun and hanging out with my plants. Maybe that makes me weird. That's ok. I like my plants better than people anyway.