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Barb's Garden


The Compost Pile

Life from death. Death and resurrection. Mysterious and magical, the compost pile where the Earth Witch stirs her potent potion. Leaf and stalk, root and seed, green thing that grows and brown wood that rots. Stir it and wet it and pile it up high. Equal parts of green and brown help the microbes break it down. Home to fat earthworms and microscopic alchemists who turn the gardenís refuse into rich gold. Rich in aroma, the smell is as sweet as the flowers of Spring.

One day, years and years ago, in the misty rain of Seattle, I met my husband in a garden and we made eyes at each other over the compost pile. Whenever I toss peels and rinds, cores and leaves into the compost bin, I think of him.






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