Why Plants Need Time to Adapt — A Gardener's Lesson in Patience

 Not All Plants Explode With Growth

🌿 Garden Talk | by Guy Saldiveri | August 23, 2026

There's an old saying, "The first year they sleep, the second year they creep, the third year they leap."

The first time I heard that, I remember raising my eyebrows and wondering just what that meant. After working in the yard and tending the gardens all this time, I've learned exactly what it means. 

Plants have their own timelines, gardens grow when gardens grow, and a gardener should sit back and let things happen when they happen. 

It's a lot like having a child. You watch them crawl around and wonder when they'll start walking. Some kids seem to do it fast, others take their time. But all of them eventually take off like crazy. And once they do, there's no stopping them.

The Sleep Phase

This is the most difficult phase. You have a beautiful plant in a container. It's doing fantastic in that little pot, but you know you have to get it in the ground. You dig a hole, amend the soil, and drop the plant in at the perfect height and with the perfect spacing. You walk away with nothing but a satisfied smile. 

You check it every day, but after a week you aren't seeing any new growth. It was growing great in that container — why isn't it growing in the ground? I mean, everything grows better in the ground, right?

Ok, it's just transplant shock, or the roots are settling in — you have to give it more time. So you wait, and you wait, and you wait. The plant looks healthy, you're giving it water, it looks happy, but it just sits there. You feel it to make sure it's real — making sure your neighbor didn't play a trick on you and didn't jokingly swap it out for an artificial one. 🙄

Yeah, I've been there, even got the expensive t-shirt… 

I learned the hard way that while you're looking at a seemingly sleepy plant above ground, you're really looking at a plant with very busy feet.

Here's what's going down.

Those roots really are trying to get established, and depending on your soil, it can happen quickly, or it can take quite a bit of time. 

My yard has some great topsoil, almost jet black, soft and healthy looking. Unfortunately, it's only about three or four inches thick. After that I get into some of the hardest packed clay you can find. At times it takes a pickaxe to actually work through it. It's the main reason I plant my gardens in containers or create hybrid beds.

Clay soil can be a very good growing medium. It often contains an abundance of nutrients, but if it's too hard for the roots to work through, it's not going to support the plants.

A good analogy would be taking a tub of ice cream out of a freezer that was set too cold and trying to scoop it out. You might as well be trying to scoop a section of cement out of your patio. If you push down hard and go slow though, you can scoop it out little by little.

Hard-packed clay presents a similar challenge to the roots. Over time, though, they're able to push through. If that's the case, that sleep phase may take a bit longer. What it takes is patience, and perseverance. And digging the right hole to start with will help as well…

Off to the right start

Getting the plants off to the right start is very important. Most folks know not to bury the plant deeper than the top of the crown. But many don't realize the hole should be two to three times the diameter of the root ball. 

Also, many times people will fill the hole with potting soil or Miracle-Gro or something like that. This actually adds to the problem. Specifically, it creates a situation where you wind up having the root ball sitting in a clay pot or bowl. You've basically just transplanted your plant into a larger container…

The Transition Layer

Once the hole is dug, loosen up the native soil, lightly amend it with some soil mix, then drop the plant in. It's also a good idea to loosen up the root ball as well. This turns the roots outward and keeps them from girdling or circling back in on themselves. 

It may still take a bit of time, but this is generally the best way I've found to cut down on the sleep phase.

Now, while I admit I had to learn patience and pretend I wasn't looking to urge them along, I also realized I have to pay attention to the plant during the "sleep" phase. 

I have to wait for the plant to establish itself, but I also have to watch out for disease, rot, pests, and any other outside influence that's affecting its health.

The Creep Phase

AHH — there it is — the first sign of new growth. That new shoot coming off the old growth. Nice green stem with a maroon tip. Finally, some progress. Now you know things are starting to take off. The plant has pushed enough energy into the roots, and they've gotten strong enough to start supporting the plant. It can now divert its energy outward.

This phase is satisfying because it lets you know the plant made it through the transplant, settled in, and is now ready to spread its wings — well, its branches anyway…

The Leap Phase

The plant is established, you have new growth all over, and now you're standing there with your hands on your hips, cursing it because you have to pull out the pruning shears, the hedge clippers, or the chainsaw.

What else can I add here? Welcome to the leap phase. You got the plant you planted. ;)

Yeah, most times with me, this is the stage when I realize I really should have believed the little blurb that was on the tag that said how vigorous it is and how big I should expect it to get. I'll learn one day — maybe…

But in any case, that little plant you started out with, the one you nursed through the scary times has now settled in and is rewarding all the hard work and effort you put into it.

A Quick Note

The sleep, creep, leap saying is interesting and valid, but don't take it as explicit behavior. I've had plants blow right through that sleep phase and just explode. On the other hand, I've had others take three years to get their act together. As long as they look healthy, I just let them do their thing.

An Example From My Yard

I can pick from many examples just in my own yard to help bring this home. I've had it happen to me with crepe myrtles, roses, shrubs, vines, and just about every tree I've planted. Native or non-native — it makes little difference. It's dependent on the soil structure and some other environmental conditions, but in my case, it's mostly soil structure.

I purchased a Celeste fig about three years ago. I had it in a 25-gallon container on the patio and it was doing fantastic. I actually took enough cuttings from it to propagate another dozen or so. It was doing so well and getting so large, I decided it was time to give it a permanent home in the ground.

I dug the hole, planted the plant, gave it the attention it needed, and what happened? It died back to the ground that first winter. Figs normally go dormant and push fresh spring growth from the existing branches, but mine isn't there yet. Every time it comes back, it gets just a little bigger. But it's a slow process. All the cuttings I made and transplanted into large containers are three to four times the size of the one in the ground.

It stays alive, but it's struggling. Eventually, as those roots break through the clay and build up enough stamina underground, the top wood will finally survive the winter, reach equilibrium, and hit that true leap phase. Until then, I'll keep my eye on it. I'll fertilize when it needs it, water when it calls for it, and patiently wait it out. I figure in another five years, I'll be up on a ladder picking fruit…

And this was the real wakeup call for me when it came to understanding my yard, my soil, and my own little microclimate. My yard is different from your yard. What happens here may or may not ever happen anywhere else — or if it does, it plays out a little differently.

Remember, gardening is about the plants; getting the plants to grow is about the gardening.

Happy Gardening 🌱