It’s a few degrees cooler and it is getting just a little darker just a little earlier. I haven’t been bitten by anything in couple of days, so it appears the mosquitoes have had their fill and are off to other places. Fall is most definitely on the way, even though it is not here yet. Still, my mind is on spring.
I have taken a few running starts at a good compost pile. When I live in Seattle, I had a pretty good little garden going on the back deck of our duplex. I was in a tomato phase then (I still am) and even though that space did not have really good sun and it was a struggle battling with the bugs to keep it organic, there was nothing better than the thought of leaving work and going to that war. It was at this time of year, when I felt a little regret, as the leaves began to fade and brown replaced green, but I looked forward to a whole new battle: COMPOST!
I am the first to admit that I like the idea, but I have no idea what I am doing. I have gotten far enough into a good pile to see steam rising on a cold winter morning when I lifted the tarp. I loved watching the needle on the thermometer climb to a triumphant 140 degrees.
I think I am enamored with the circle of life. Things that were once dinner worthy being broken down and returned to nature. Egg shells and coffee grounds that were the refuse from a hasty breakfast, were now slowly giving structure and texture to my pile. The bugs that I detest in the summer sought refuge in my pile and some were forming a network of tunnels and highways where rotting bread was being hauled to and fro.
I even tried vermicomposting. If you lay a piece of cardboard on pretty much any area of land on a cool night, by the morning there will be bright red worms under it that will work to devour your garbage and provide you will great fertilizer in a few weeks. They are more of a challenge. You never want to drown them in food nor do you want to starve them to death. Worm farms are a lot of work.
With composting the process is simple. Keep it semi-aerated and as wet as a damp sponge. Keep flipping the pile and don’t let it get too hot, nor too cold and in a little while, you have a rich brown/black mixture that will work wonders on you garden in the spring; or so I am told.
I must admit, I have never gotten that far. A good garden is a sign of man’s civilization. You are saying, “I am here and I have managed to tame one little spot of God’s planet.” I am often tempted to beat my chest when I have planted something. I have never been able to make it that far. This is the drawback to a mobile life. I am rarely in one spot for the length of that circle of life. I guess that is why I am so very excited about this project.
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