“Soil thou art, and unto soil shall thou return.”
Genesis 3:19
Last weekend, I uncovered a finished compost heap. What began life as a fairly haphazard pile of leaves, manure and vegetable matter at least a cubic metre in volume became, with little help or effort on my part, two generous barrow loads of beautiful looking compost, the stuff that hard core gardeners call “black gold”. Feeling very chuffed, I couldn’t resist holding a handful up to my nose for a whiff. Just as I hoped, it smelt sweet and earthy.
To those who wander the corridors of power, composting is seen in a purely utilitarian light – it’s a means of reducing pressure on the municipal waste management system. Talk about selling something short. In my view of the world, compost making is akin to a sacrament. When I take a bunch of dead vegetation and animal dung and form it into a pile, when I allow it to ferment over the course of many months and eventually dig up barrow loads of living humus, there’s certainty in my mind that I’ve witnessed an everyday, backyard miracle.
The lesson at the heart of a compost heap is that life is made from death. “Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” is the line recited from the Book of Common Prayer in traditional funeral services. To emphasise the point, the minister will grab a handful of dirt and ceremonially throw it onto the coffin. Mourners will often follow suit, yet most people seem to miss the tag line: “in sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life.”
All of this relates to the Old Testament story of Adam and Eve. Adam, whose Hebrew name derives from “earth”, was formed by God from the soil and placed in the Garden of Eden. Eve, whose name means “life” in Hebrew, was formed from Adam. Together, they were charged by God to dress and keep the earth yet you’ll recall that Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit from the tree of knowledge, and were thereafter banished from the Garden to a life of toil and decay. Christians believe that restoration eventually came in the shape of a resurrected Christ. Little wonder that garden writer Margaret Simons refers to a good compost heap as “a very literal and practical kind of resurrection.”
Practical Composting
Known as Mr Compost, Peter Rutherford is an ecologist who coined the acronym A.D.A.M. to describe the key principles of composting. Besides being an obvious reference to the first man and the Hebrew derivation of his name, Rutherford’s ADAM principles are an excellent reminder of both the art, and science, of good compost making.
Aliveness
For a compost heap to work well, it needs care and maintenance just like a pet dog or cat. A healthy heap will contain fungi, worms and insects, all of which play a role in composting, but bacteria is the major prime mover in converting organic matter into humus. A good compost heap is bursting with microbial life.
Diversity
When making a compost heap, aim to include a diverse range of materials based on the general principle that anything once living will decompose. For best results, try to achieve a balance between green, nitrogen rich materials (grass clippings, manure, vegie scraps) and brown, carbon rich materials (dried leaves, straw, shredded paper). Avoid meat scraps, as these attract vermin.
Aeration
By letting oxygen into the heap you’ll stop it from smelling rotten and will create the ideal habitat for micro-organisms to do their work. The easiest way to aerate your heap is to turn it, and by doing so every couple of weeks, you’ll hopefully have finished compost within a couple of months. Alternatively, make “chimneys” in the heap with slotted ag pipe or using a special composting corkscrew.
Moisture
All living things require moisture to survive. In a compost heap, moisture assists in breaking down organic matter and helps keep composting organisms alive. When making your heap, wet it down as you go, and check to ensure it’s still moist during periods of dry weather. The material should be about as damp as a well wrung sponge. Be aware that too much moisture is as bad as too little because it creates anaerobic conditions. I cover my heaps with an old tarp or piece of weed mat to stop them getting too wet.
First published in The Chronicle 31st October 2009. Photo by Andrew Dunn via wikimedia commons.
