Surprising compost

Each time I place either a seed or a plant into the ground, it is with the hope that something wonderful will happen. Or at the very least I will get a response in the affirmative. For me seeds continue to be a mystery as when you plant a plant (rather than a seed) all the hard work has been done leaving the gardener with a finished product to care for. A planted seed, like a developing child in a womb, is full of potential as one waits for the day that it will pop out of the soil and introduce itself.

This introduction is sometimes not realized, however, as the purposefully planted seed is the most unsuccessful one having to fight its way into the world. My wife told me there is an old Mayan saying that a farmer always should plant three seeds in every location. “One for the gods, one for the birds and one for man.” But even with this triplet, we can be thwarted. Bugs, disease, drought, heat, cold and a variety of other maladies can stop a seed in its tracks as we longingly look for some signs of success after it was initially sowed. Ironically, this is never the situation with weeds: all the plants we do not seek find their way into our soil and before we know it have spread their offspring far and wide. Their success rate is high and we conspire against it by pulling, spraying and doing everything we can to discourage this reproduction.

In my garden, there has emerged a middle ground in the most unexpected of places: the compost heap. Every year without warning or provocation, a plant (or two) emerges from the compost heap that is a true surprise. Now I know that this is not supposed to happen as the perfect compost heap is cooking at temperatures up to 160 degrees. But that could not happen and still produce squash, avocado, potato, tomato and anything else that got thrown into this pile months back.

This year I should get four different crops from the compost: Potatoes, tomatoes, squash and cucumbers. Last year a few avocado trees sprouted. And this Spring from the Green Chimney’s compost heap I was able to harvest a dozen sunflower plants that are now growing all over my garden.

It doesn’t seem fair the ease with which these plants grow. They are big and healthy sans care or intervention on my part. I don’t water, weed or watch over them. They just get bigger and bigger luxuriating in the fertile medium of my rotting vegetation.  But I don’t care, as my compost cucumbers (from a special variety I planted last year) will be on my plate next week a good two weeks ahead of what I planted in the garden over a month ago.