In what seemed for a time a kind of dance or wrestling match, I moved the split-leaf philodendron from its white-stained, root-bound clay pot to a much larger, lighter, clay-colored plastic pot. Unfortunately, I had to break the clay pot with a hammer in order to take out the plant — except that technically, when I was done hammering, the philodendron was already out. The operation was performed next to the big rhododendron at the bottom of the step near the front door, the step itself being the philodendron’s shady, airy summer home. Its winter home is inside near one of the big south-facing windows. Part of moving the plant involved tying it to a one-inch, four-foot stake for support, which I buried to the bottom of the new pot. It seems to be working well. The upper leaves of this plant are quite large, with five or six splits on each side. It adds no leaves during the winter, tho’ it looks happy enough, in a quiet, contemplative sort of way. Philodendrons are jungle plants. Give them a warm, humid atmosphere and a fuzzy tree to grow on, and they’ll climb who knows how many feet into the air. Give them a pot and a place near the dining table, and they bide their time, dreaming their jungle dreams. They’re a joy to be around. The years go by. We breathe the same air. We live together.
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Categories: A Few More Scratches
Tags: Clay Pots, Dreams, Gardening, Jungles, Philodendrons, Rhododendrons
William Michaelian 
Ich hatte auch eine Monstera. Sie wurde zu groß in unserem kleinen Häuschen. Doch sie hat in einer Arztpraxis einen idealen Platz gefunden. Bin ich dort, begrüße ich sie, streichle über die Blätter. Sie war es von mir gewöhnt, lächel…
Herzlich, Edith
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A doctor’s office is a good place for them, because they are healers too….
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