Rootbound
Today, I pulled my calathea plant out of its pot and examined its state of being. Just as I had thought – rootbound.
I had noticed thick, yellow roots creeping through the drainage holes, beyond the confines of their tight plastic prison, gasping for air and space, overreaching and overspilling the pot they were once so lovingly placed in. This candid examination confirmed my suspicion.
I’m sure that once, not so long ago, this green grow-pot was the perfect size and shape and fit for those poor roots. It’s nobody’s fault – plants grow. This one was just long overdue.
“I heard the plant sigh audibly”
Thriving / Surviving
I thought of all the times it had been seen in its tightly-fitting home and was perceived to be thriving. After all, the leaves are large and glossy – some as large as my face – and multitudinous. Their pink stripes look painted by a skilled brush, not sprung from nature. Above soil, no soul could tell that its roots were suffocating themselves in a circlet of their own creation, in the desperate search for space and nourishment.
I set about freeing the coiled tangle of roots with my bare fingers. I gently tugged and massaged and eased, and with small encouragements the foundation of this leafy titan began to yield and fall loose. The soil crumbled away in soft clumps and I swear I heard the plant give an audible sigh of relief.
Placed softly in its new, larger home, my calathea came alive before my eyes. Its spaghetti of roots groaned as they bedded in to the fresh new soil, and the stems shuffled and wriggled themselves comfy. The leaves spread further, and the whole plant relaxed and opened.
Earthen-fingered with dirt beneath my nails, I felt a stirring in my own roots. It had been so long since I last checked on them, since they last saw sunlight, truthfully I could not report on the state of them. But I could feel and sense them tightening and crawling up the sides of my container.
No point in conjecture, I suppose. Presently I reached inside my skin and pulled my roots up blinkingly into the afternoon air. They came away easily.
Just as I suspected – rootbound.