A brass pot complements the green tone of the bird’s nest fern (Asplenium nidus).
Older leaves on this Dracaena marginata naturally fall off as new ones emerge at the tip. Every line on this trunk is the scar of an old leaf. Therefore, know your growing conditions, and let nature take its course—older leaves will fall off.
The first tagline I used for my blog, House Plant Journal, was: “A journal for my house plants.” Although it was completely redundant, I wanted to emphasize that I would be documenting my experiences with my house plants—I enjoyed watching them grow and change. Naturally, when I started out, I looked to books and the Internet for guidance. As I read more and more plant-care advice, I found an imbalance, where the appreciation of house plants was assumed to be mostly visual, while their maintenance was looked upon as a chore, focused on identifying and solving problems. Hardly anyone talked about the long-term satisfaction of owning house plants. Instead, there was an accumulation of “tips and tricks” that would lead one to believe that plants are either super-easy to care for, requiring little consideration of environmental conditions, or finicky drama queens that keel over and die if you don’t stand there and mist them every five minutes.
Most plant-care advice is given as a set of instructions tied to individual plant species. The advice reads like a baking recipe that advertises guaranteed results. At the same time, a plant’s supposed imperfections are highlighted, and blame is assigned for failure to overcome them: overwatering, underwatering, and so forth. The expectation derived from such advice is that a plant should always look the same or even grow to a state of thriving perfection, except when it mysteriously fails to do so. Reading the reassurance of, “This plant is easy to care for,” only adds to one’s feelings of being a bad plant parent when a few leaves turn yellow and fall off.
I think a shift in the plant-care mind-set is needed. In documenting my experiences with house plants, I focused on understanding what environmental factors were most important for house-plant enjoyment. I wasn’t looking for perfection—I just wanted to know that I was doing everything I could and that the plant was trying its best too. I applied my engineering thinking to the hobby: optimize my care efforts for maximum house-plant satisfaction. My goal in writing this book is to empower you to understand your home’s growing conditions, to be observant, and to accept what nature has in store. It’s about equipping you with the right knowledge and expectations, so you will know that you’re doing the best you can, given the conditions in your home. Finally, I want to help you break away from old habits and ways of thinking that hinder you from truly enjoying plant parenthood.
Plant experts are constantly telling you which plants are foolproof, but what really makes a particular house plant easy or hard to care for? Of course, a lot has to do with how much effort and patience you’re willing to put into its care, but what you expect from the plant is just as important.
Some plants demand attention to prevent permanent damage. Take wilting, for example. When their soil dries out completely, some leafy plants, such as the peace lily and the maiden-hair fern, become dramatically wilted. With a good soaking, the peace lily will perk up and look just fine, but the maidenhair fern may not recover. A plant that you can easily kill can be reasonably described as hard to care for, and some plants require more vigilance to keep them alive! Fortunately, as you’ll see in this book, most of the plants you will grow are more forgiving.
If you don’t want to put time and energy into plant care, growing certain kinds of plants will be hard for you. Growing lots of plants, especially large ones, can be overwhelming if you don’t enjoy the process of caring for them. If you need to spend an hour moving plants around simply to water them, you might consider them hard to care for. This book will help you contain your plants for ease of watering and schedule their care sensibly.
If you expect every plant to look “beautiful” all the time and never drop a leaf, then every plant will seem hard to care for. Truly, I tell you, this is an impossible expectation to meet, so get used to removing some dead leaves. Older leaves must die off to balance the resources required for new ones. Most plants develop physical imperfections despite all efforts, and every plant will look different once it has adjusted to living in your home. If you know to expect this, you will learn to appreciate your plants’ resourcefulness and character.
And, of course, any plant is hard to care for if you don’t understand its needs. Can you give it the amount of light it needs to survive or to thrive? Do you know how to assess soil moisture and how to properly water a plant? The rest of this book should help you develop confidence—you’ll know what you’re doing! When you understand your growing conditions and care methods, many house-plant “problems” fall into the unavoidable and non-life-threatening category: They are your problems, not the plant’s problems. But if you can change your expectations and accept what nature has in store, you’ll get great enjoyment from your plants for many years.
Snake plants are classified as “easy” because they can maintain their broad leaves for years even while living several feet from a window, which, as you’ll learn, corresponds to lower watering frequency.
When a palm frond becomes yellow and you tried everything to stop it, does that make the palm a hard plant to care for? What if you knew to expect some leaf loss?
A monstera is a large plant that can be enjoyed for many years if you have the space!
Most of the house plants we buy are grown rapidly in conditions that are nearly impossible to reproduce inside our homes. Thus, every plant you bring home faces an adjustment period. The greater the difference in any of the original growing conditions compared to our homes, the more impact the adjustment period will have on the plant. The most influential factor for plant adjustment is light, because it determines the rate and direction of growth, given adequate water and air flow. And it’s not as simple as “there’s less sun”; it’s the fact that your walls and ceiling are opaque to the sky.
During the adjustment period, there’s a risk of older leaves yellowing, leaf tips becoming crispy brown, and of a plant’s developing leggy or lopsided growth patterns. After some weeks or months, the rate of leaf death will balance the rate of leaf growth—the plant has stabilized, for now. Sometime after that, the plant will likely take on a new shape optimized for its new home. The next adjustment will come when it is time to repot the plant or replenish the soil. You can suffer through the changes your plants undergo, or you can enjoy the process of helping them through the adjustment period, removing dead leaves and pruning them to a pleasing shape.
I call the length of time a plant can be enjoyed, as opposed to how long it can survive, the plant’s subjective life span. Just like baby plants that are “not ready for sale” because they appear too small and less presentable, a healthily growing plant may develop to the point where it is no longer aesthetically pleasing or convenient to care for. It can also be the case that some plants just don’t stay “nice looking” indoors for very long, although they are still technically alive. Like all living things, a plant changes over time. With luck, you’ve had years of enjoying it, watching it grow, flower, maybe even produce some offshoots. Now it needs your help, and, fortunately, you have options: You can reshape it by pruning, reset it by pruning (you may be able to propagate tips), or reset it by propagation. Once you know how it grows and how it reproduces, you’ll be able to find a way to extend its life. Outdoor gardeners are familiar with perennial and annual plants; indoor gardeners should adopt a similar awareness of the different life cycles of their plants for the sake of enjoying the hobby—you’re not taking care of a sculpture!
There are some wonderfully long-lived house plants and even some seemingly immortal ones that can be enjoyed for generations. These plants accomplish everlasting life in two different ways: first, by preserving aesthetic qualities throughout their life span (some with pruning, some without), and second, by producing offshoots, which are essentially clones, for your continued enjoyment. We’ll meet some of those, but we’ll also learn satisfying skills for regenerating plants that lose their pleasing form.
When I was starting out with house plants, I kept encountering the command “Don’t overwater!” This advice on its own seemed to imply that one should err on the side of watering less. But what, exactly, does this mean? Do I just trickle in some water on a frequent basis? Does it mean to never drench the soil? Because the advice is rarely followed up with specific instructions, people tend to be anxious whenever they start pouring water onto soil. They also think that the act of watering a plant is the caretaker’s only responsibility. This book will help you understand that the amount of light a plant receives determines its water usage, and show you how soil aeration helps with maintaining soil structure. When the light is right and the roots are happy, the plant is working. When the plant is working, it will use up water correctly.
The most important lesson you’ll learn from this book is how to gauge the intensity of light a plant is receiving. Light, not fertilizer, is a plant’s main food—it’s what a plant “eats” to produce carbohydrates. Many articles like to use catchy phrases such as “10 best houseplants for low light” or “thrives in low light,” but there’s always confusion surrounding the definition of low light and even what it means to be thriving. In general, “low light” is brighter than you think—when horticulturalists say a plant can grow in low light, they are referring to a daily high of 50 to 100 foot-candles. Your windowless office’s artificial lighting, while it might seem bright to you, may only be putting out 30 foot-candles at your desk. Yes, a plant might technically survive there, but it can hardly thrive! Truthfully, after watching that plant go through a grueling adjustment period where 80 to 90 percent of its foliage dies off, most people would dismiss it as being dead.
Furthermore, a plant growing in low light typically needs much less water than a plant in bright light. Once you’ve learned how to be an effective plant parent by tailoring your care to a plant’s specific needs based on the environment you’ve provided for it, you will be far less dependent on all that plant-specific advice that gets recycled on the Internet.
The natural world balances life and death, beauty and decay, growth and decline. Beyond the visual enjoyment a well-placed plant provides is the deep satisfaction that comes from caring for its needs, watching it grow, and even mourning its loss. Once you understand the adjustment period and accept the concept of a subjective life span for house plants, you will be freed from feeling disappointed and discouraged when you find that your plant has changed. I hope that after reading this book you will come to appreciate the special character a house plant develops after years of ownership and care. And as for the plants you lose interest in over the long term—give them away or experiment with propagation. Focus on understanding your environment, do the best you can for your house plants, and let nature take its course. Those are the hallmarks of a “green thumb.”
You’ll have a far greater plant parenthood experience if you deepen your appreciation for how plants grow as opposed to simply how they look at a given moment.
Fertilizer helps a growing plant. It does not make a plant grow—light makes it grow.
Take a quick scroll through two of the largest curated house-plant feeds on Instagram, @urbanjungleblog and @houseplantclub. You’ll be struck by the appeal of thriving plants growing in the spaces where people live. They convey vitality and the feeling that a place is healthy. And I think you can immediately sense the difference between the space of an authentic plant parent and the “let’s brighten up this dark corner with a plant” kind of space.
How? Because the way a plant looks is a direct result of the environment that’s been provided for it. That’s why I sometimes cringe when I walk past a planter full of nice-looking plants sitting in a mall, under the escalators. “They are basically sent there to die a slow death,” says my nursery-owner friend. The key to a plant’s sense of belonging in a space is to make sure it’s getting the right kind of light.
House plants are often relegated to dark corners because someone confused “low light” with no light. Here’s a pothos ‘Marble Queen’ at the start of what will be a miserable existence.
I saved that pothos by giving her a new home. Now she’s basking in bright indirect light from an overhead skylight.
Plants tend to look better when they are photographed in the places where they actually grow. They’re saying, “We belong here!” The determining factor is light.
Monstera is an eternally popular specimen plant.
Wood and terracotta always seem to pair well with plants!
The concept of succession typically refers to how different species of plants dominate a natural community—it could be a forest or a meadow—as it matures. We can think of cycles of house-plant ownership in a similar manner, where you work together with Mother Nature in your home.
Stage 1
Your house-plant succession might start with a specimen plant—a plant whose form and foliage can stand alone as a visual point of interest in a room. The container can either be in harmony with the plant or be bland and unnoticeable (because the focus is on the plant). The classic example is a large floor plant with structural foliage, like a Dracaena fragrans. A smaller plant, such as a pothos in a 6-inch pot, can still make a striking specimen if placed in an appropriate location. There’s pressure on the single specimen to always shine, so it is wise to choose something that keeps its looks great with minimal maintenance. Considerations for light are often in conflict with décor, but after reading this book you’ll be able to find the right spot and level of care for a specimen plant.
Stage 2
When you start acquiring more plants, you’ll naturally have areas of your home dedicated to displaying them in groups—the #plantshelfie comes to mind, or a bay window filled with plants. If you want to create a convincing display, bright indirect light should touch every plant (as you’ll see, this is another way of saying that each plant should have some view of the sky). Using matching containers is a great way to unify a collection, but don’t be afraid to get eclectic with some accents. If you go vertical with your arrangements, be mindful of the compromise among décor, growth conditions, and practicality for maintenance.
Stage 3
You’ve planted a mature jungle, with foliage everywhere you look. At this point, containers are virtually invisible and may be set up solely for watering convenience (for example, you may have troughs holding groups of plants). As the shapes of trees give a forest character, so the shapes of mature house plants impart character to a room. I think many interior designers would consider an indoor jungle “overgrown,” but some would find it enchanting. A truly mature growing space exudes vitality, as though the plants are saying, “We’ve grown happily here for many years!”
Sometimes, it’s more about maturity than abundance. This stairwell has only about a dozen plants; the appeal comes from how they have grown into the space.
The mature jungle is more than a room filled with plants; it’s really an indoor tropical garden where the plants have grown to suit their environment.
A bay window filled to the brim with plants—accented by a few mature specimen plants.
People develop tastes in plants much as they do for different styles of music. I’m partial to tropical foliage, so tropical plants are mostly what you’ll find in the journal section of this book. But the sections that discuss plant-care fundamentals can be applied to all plants. Plants all have the same basic needs: the right kind of light, water delivered when needed, and soil management to ensure happy roots. Understanding these concepts will allow you to explore all kinds of plants. By approaching plant care in a holistic manner, you’ll develop the knowledge and confidence to observe how any plant responds to your home conditions and give it appropriate care, instead of feeling lost because you were not told the specific instructions for the plant.
Not my succulents, but I can appreciate when plants are well cared for.
My style is tropical foliage—I respond to the diversity of leaf forms, colors, and patterns.
Neutral-colored pots play nicely with different shades of green.
To care for plants in an understanding way, it helps to know a little bit about how they work. You’ve probably heard the word photosynthesis. Photosynthesis is the way a plant converts the energy in light into chemical energy—that is, into carbohydrates or sugars. When a photon strikes the chlorophyll that gives plant leaves their green color, it powers a reaction between carbon dioxide in the atmosphere and water in the leaf that produces oxygen and carbohydrates. The oxygen is released back into the atmosphere, which is great for animals (like us) that breathe oxygen, and the carbohydrates are used for plant growth. This is the cycle of life for a plant.
Plants, then, are light-eating beings. More than water or fertilizer, a plant’s basic food is light. Without the energy from light, a plant starves. In the absence of light that can turn water into life-sustaining carbohydrates, any water that the plant draws up from the soil into its leaves just accumulates in the leaf cells until they burst or drown. And without building blocks of carbohydrates, the plant stops growing. We’ve all seen a starving plant, off in a corner with no light, its leaves turning brown.
Fortunately, what makes growing plants indoors possible is that different families of plants have different levels of appetite for light. Many tropical foliage plants, in particular, which evolved to live under trees that filter intense sunlight, can thrive without direct sun; they just need some light—the kind we call “bright indirect light”—to be at their best. This is why so many of our most treasured house plants come originally from the tropics. Their light needs are relatively modest, and, coming from a climate where the temperature varies through a narrow range, they can tolerate the temperatures in our homes. But deprive them of enough light, and you’re starving them.
Commercial growers of tropical foliage plants use shade cloth to weaken the sunlight to just the right amount for rapid growth of their stock, and they use racks that allow water and air to circulate through the pots.