In 2020, when the world shut down, most of us found hobbies. Baking, camping, and gardening all rose to popularity, to name a few. As for me, I started collecting house plants.
I was at the greenhouse daily. I learned what I loved (Dracaena, Pothos, and Philodendron), what I killed every time (Tradescantia), and what was too fussy to attempt (Fiddle Leaf Fig). Now, nearly four years in, I care for hundreds of plants.
I stayed with a friend in September 2020, and was obsessed with her huge Monstera Deliciosa—that’s the plant with the huge leaves, split (fenestrated to us planty people) in a pleasing, rounded, palm-like pattern. I didn’t have one yet because they’re big and expensive, and I couldn’t handle the possibility of killing one.
Hearing both my obsession and hesitation, my friend suggested I take a cutting from her plant and start my own. Though still fearing failure, I cut off a small leaf with a nearby node, plopped it into a glass jar with water, and brought it home with me.
After two weeks in water, the leaf sprouted a tiny root. After a month, that root was three inches long, and ready to move to soil. Things were going well! I would have a monster Monstera in no time at this rate…right?
Leaves continued growing, deep green, smooth, and small—like a healthy philodendron, but nothing like a majestic Monstera. This continued through the rest of 2020…And 2021. And 2022. Even deep into 2023. Did I break it when I took the cutting or snip from the wrong plant?
Then, in June 2023 I was ecstatic when a new leaf unfurled, and it was HUGE—still no fenestration to be found, but a step in the right direction! On my next watering day, my patience was once again rewarded. The very same big leaf had split! It was one single hole on one single leaf, but you would’ve thought someone just presented me with a winning lottery ticket. From a single cutting to a single fenestration—and it only took two years and 9 months to get there!
I am even prouder that as of this week’s column, three and a half years into this journey, I have a beautiful Monstera with three (yes, still only three) large, fully fenestrated leaves. It took forever, but nothing worth doing is easy.
I started collecting plants to cope with a pandemic, but this habit has now given me so much more. Plants remind me we need air, water and light to survive. They bring vibrancy to my home, even through grief. Plants teach me to pay attention to little details, and show me the power of patience.
2023 was a hard year for me, but I didn’t give up. I will never give up, because nothing worth doing is easy. It turns out I have plants to thank for that lesson, too.
Sara Middleton is a freelance columnist and correspondent, and resident artist/owner of Studio Sol Gallery & Creative Space in Eagle Grove, Iowa. Email her at sara.studiosol@gmail.com or find Studio Sol on Facebook or Instagram.
