I need someone to tell me if my orchid is dormant or just plain dead.
Here is my orchid:
And here is what I know:
Orchids–at least the kind most of us have in our homes–are tropical plants. They like comfy, warm temps. They love humidity. (Clearly not my spirit-plant; they are as different from me as potentially living things can be.)
What orchids don’t like is over-watering. Even I know the ice-cube technique where you put ice cubes into the orchid pot and then forget about watering for a week. (In this the orchid and I are well-matched, since I often forget about watering for a week.)
I also know that after blooming like a normal houseplant, an orchid goes dormant for several months. Flower stems shrivel, often becoming dry and brown. Leaves droop and wrinkle. The once-resplendent orchid looks … well, dead.
We have already established that I am a terrible gardener. I try hard, but it appears that the only plants I can successfully grow are herbs (and not even ALL herbs–what do you want from me, cilantro?) But a potted flower? That’s not even outside. I should be able to handle that.
Here are some of the answers I’ve received when asking how to determine my orchid’s true state-of-being:
“Wait. You’ll know.” (Apparently, I don’t.)
“Just leave it alone. Orchids never die. It may take years, but they always come back.” (Years during which I inadvertently have a dead plant displayed on my shelf. As if my gardening reputation weren’t bad enough.)
“Look for little spikes. Those will be new blossoms.” (Little what, now?)
“Be patient. Keep doing the ice-cube thing.”
“Be patient. Stop doing the ice-cube thing.”
It’s been suggested that if it looks that bad and bothers me that much, I should just chuck it and pick up a new one. After all, you can find orchids at most grocery stores. But I don’t want to give up on any orchid before its time. I want to TRY.
Huh. While snapping photos of my orchid just now, I realized that the last leaf vanished some time overnight, and that something new-ish appears to be pushing up from the bottom of the stem. It may even be green. IS THIS A GOOD SIGN?
Any help is greatly appreciated. And while we’re at it, please tell me why my cilantro hates me.
As always, comments are welcome in both the Comments section of this post and via jillmorrowbooks@gmail.com.
Both my orchid and I thank you in advance.
How frustratingly like most life advice. “Just wait, you’ll know.” If I wait long enough to know, it will no longer be relevant…And how thematic for life as well. It’s so hard to know when to give up on something, because if you give up too soon, you’ll never see the beauty that might have been. However, holding onto something long past its time is both pointless and often painful…
I know nothing about orchids. (I have never heard of the ice cube thing.) I’d probably throw it out and hang a framed watercolor of an orchid. So obviously I am not the one to ask.