How I Fell for Venus Flytraps

Published on 25.04.2025

It all began with a date. Not just any date—my boyfriend, who happens to be a gardener (yes, really), took me to Chládek, a garden centre in Prague. I wasn’t planning to bring anything home, maybe just browse a few flowers. But then I spotted it: a tiny Dionaea muscipula, quietly sitting among the other plants, just begging for someone to take it seriously.

Of course, I brought it home. And, of course, I did everything wrong.

Like many beginners, I assumed it needed a tropical setup—humidity, fog, the full Jurassic Park treatment. So I placed it inside a terrarium and misted it lovingly, thinking I was doing the right thing. The poor plant didn’t die, but it wasn’t exactly living its best life either. Its traps stayed small, its color dull. It looked like it was trying to survive politely.

Eventually, I realized the terrarium wasn’t working, so I moved it to a terracotta pot. It perked up slightly, but before long, white mineral crust started showing on the pot, and the plant still seemed unhappy. The soil, the light, the water—something was still off.

So I dove into research. I read forums, care guides, and grower blogs until everything finally started clicking. Distilled water only. Nutrient-free soil. Full sun. And no more terracotta—plastic pots only, please.

I gave it a fresh start: plastic pot, peat and perlite, rainwater, and sunlight. And suddenly, everything changed. It grew new traps, rich color, even flower stalks. The plant looked like it had just woken up from a long nap. It started dividing. It started thriving.

That one flytrap turned into a few more. Then a dozen. Then shelves full of Dionaea cultivars. Now I have a small webshop, a big passion, and a plant collection that keeps growing.

And yes—we’re still together, five years later. The flytrap survived. So did the relationship. Honestly, I’m not sure which one’s more impressive 😀.

Stay snappy 🌱
— Peter