The Shadowy Ficus
By Andrea Peck
I have a shy plant. She slinks along the walls, admitting nothing. She doesn't seem to grow, but she remains green despite my general lack of effort. She is somewhat lopsided. I suppose I could alter that, but why really? She never comes up in discussions—I think the term wallflower probably applies. Dare I say her name? Ficus. Ficus benjamina.
Is she blushing? I can't tell. She's green.
I call her she because I once had a co-worker who began a morning conversation with an elaborate story about her move-out situation with a jilted boyfriend. As the story wound on, I found myself completely confused.
“Who's she?” I asked.
A relatively large number of she-scenarios were bouncing around my head. I was in my twenties. I wondered if it was impertinent to even ask, but luckily I did. Evidently the she in this story was her Ficus. She was a small slip of a girl. If I remember correctly the Ficus weighed in heavily in the tale because she lived upstairs with her ex-upstart and she and her Ficus had had a difficult time leaving. Ficus do not have walking boots, after all.
Aside from its general femininity, the Ficus is odd right down to its name. How many plants are regularly called by their Latin name, while the common name, weeping fig, is largely unknown? No matter its predilection for covert behavior, it is the type of plant that easily ends up in your home, invited or not. I have to admit, there is something about this plant that I can't put my finger on exactly--something intriguing about her windblown aspect and quiet persistence.
I'm not sure why, but it surprised me to find out that the Ficus is a tropical plant. It originates in the rainforests of Asia and Australia. The whole thing makes me shake my head. My plant in the rainforest? I just can't imagine large insects and panthers brushing by my Ficus. It just doesn't jive. Of course, I can hardly imagine my ancestors running amok hunting animals and creating fire, particularly when it comes to my own kids who require a lie-down at the sight of a hangnail. When you learn about the care of this plant, however, the tropical origins linger fog-like amongst the scenes. You just have to alter your attention.
Those of us who do not live in the rainforest tend to cultivate our Ficus plants indoors. Mine is in a big pot right near my front door, which I just found out could be the reason it is “defoliating.” This is not the same as exfoliation, by the way. It is more in the realm of ‘hair-loss' for plants. In other words, it is an unwelcome event. My plant was moved recently, in order to accommodate a fancy new dog bed and the fake Christmas tree. The only Ficus-friendly space left was next to the door. Of couse, Ficus does not like the door because this is where “drafts” come from. It makes sense when you think how temperate and sweaty the rainforest must be. A draft probably never occurs there.
Ficus appreciate warm temperatures. Again this harkens back to their wild roots. In fact, 70°F or higher is just about right. Prolonged temperatures below 60°F are not recommended for this plant. The Ficus requires bright, indirect light to flourish. Direct light will burn the plant, but lack of light is also problematic. So, find a space that is warm, draft-free and bright and cheery but not glaring. Chilly confines, cool drafts and lack of light may cause leaf loss. Think of it as her dropping her hankie in an effort to get your attention. She's not dying; you'll just need to rethink the situation.
Humidity is important to this plant. Increase ambient moisture around it by placing the plant on a tray with pebbles immersed in water or mist it regularly. At the same time, do not overwater. Keep tabs on water needs by touching the soil—if it is dry to the touch then water, otherwise wait.
Your girl needs nutrients, so apply a weak solution of all-purpose plant fertilizer once a month during the spring and summer months. During the fall and winter you can give her a break or fertilize every two months. Use your judgement.
The Ficus plant is a valuable ally when it comes to clean indoor air—particularly ridding your house of formaldehyde, toluene and xylene. Another neat thing about the Ficus is that it is an actual tree. Outside, the Ficus grows to imposing heights. Inside, she'll remain modest. I suppose that is her greatest appeal. Her reserved demeanor does not allow her to ask for special consideration—but, if you give her a mist here, a dose of fertilizer there, and the right temperature and light, she will clean the invisible muck in your air and add life to your home.
Next week, I'll discuss a new pest that seems to have taken a liking to the Ficus.