Remember when I said I would “wait a few days” to repot my baby snake plants? That was three weeks ago. Three weeks of the plants waiting for me, probably tapping their little feet and looking at their little watches, if they had either.

I dilly dallied, anxious about if I was doing the ‘right’ thing by repotting in winter. Winter just does not seem conducive to fiddling about the greenery. Watching the snake plant leaf cutting decidedly not develop any roots has been a constant reminder of this hibernation period. It’s neighboring inchplant propagation buddy has also been slow to form roots, which helps alleviate my worry that snake plants just may not propagate by this method (I remain skeptical until I see it).

Anyways, my anxiety. It finally occurred to me that I have four snake plants of the same age and type. I could go further down the scientific method rabbit-hole and test my concerns. Repot two, leave the other two to be repotted in early spring, and see how each set develops. It’s brilliant, brilliant, brilliant, I tell you! Genius, I say!

In all my excited-and-unthinking wisdom, I immediately set into action, in the middle of the night. Which, I discovered in a subsequent research binge, can be a good time for repotting, as it gives the plant time to recuperate from the stress before the sun activates its leafy activity. Thus, cloudy conditions may also be ideal for transplanting.

Using the knowledge gained from last summer’s library workshop, I mindfully prepared the pots. I washed my hands, spritzed the new pots with alcohol, created a dirt barrier at the base with a coffee filter, sprinkled in some bacteria-fighting cinnamon, and filled the pots about a third way with fresh succulent soil.

And then I discovered why I meant to repot a few days after watering, instead of a few weeks. The snake plant soil was bone dry and nigh impossible to break apart without also snapping all the roots. I made the impulse decision to soak one of the plants in a water bath, to loosen the soil. The attempt was moderately successful, and I managed to free the bottom half of the mass. I unfurled the long roots that had wrapped themselves around the edges, and trimmed any that extended deeper than the depth of the new pot. As a rule, we don’t want roots winding around the plant in a chokehold, and roots longer than the container will only have the option of folding in on themselves.

After a chaotic and somewhat improvised repotting, I finally have one snake plant re-homed in its handsome new clay pot, looking oh so handsome! I’ll leave my second trial buddy for this upcoming week, so I can water him in the morning, wait a few days, and then repot, as per my original plan.

As a treat, I have some “inside” information to share about snake plant growth. The leaves on the outside are oldest, while new leaves form from the center of the plant. Behold! Images looking down into the center of production of the newly repotted snake plant!

There’s even new growth inside the little flanking cluster whose leaf had broken off during my fumble three weeks ago. I was worried that the sidecar might die from the stress (and overall lack of leaves), so it is very heartening to observe that there is hope. I would venture to guess that the larger neighbor is sharing nutrients with his kin, as we see in trees. In the face of unending entropy, community support nurtures such a beautiful and fruitful world.