My mother had a Philodendron hederaceum, and I’ll be the first to admit that it looked far better than either of mine do. It was lush and green. It was regularly dusted and rinsed. It lasted for years. It was also plastic.
In all the noise of fancy plants, I sometimes overlook the quiet ones; the ones that never give me any trouble. I have a couple of plain, old fashioned Philos now; one climbs and the other trails. I don’t have them in ideal locations, but they seem to work happily with what they’re given. I appreciate that. It’s good to have some plants that are team players.
But I do sometimes forget just how beautiful and interesting they are. The new leaves unfurl with a striking copper-bronze color, and then work through several shades of green until they get rather dark. The vines can appear almost delicate, hardly able to support all those leaves. Sad that they don’t get more recognition, maybe they need a better agent.
Although mine aren’t quite as easy as Mom’s, I prefer them. Mine grow and change. I can come back and they’re doing something new. And they are, in their way, just as dependable and carefree as hers.
I’ll keep you posted.
