Composting is a brief but very practical, hands-dirty, guide to turning garden waste, food scraps and waste paper into the kind of soil that will have your plants moaning in ecstasy as they grow a mile a minute. As the authors say, it isn’t rocket science and there are no hard and fast rules. Anything organic will rot if you leave it long enough, and learning about composting is simply learning how to make the process work better for you and your garden.
If you just want to put lawn clippings on the garden beds, fine. If you want to buy a bokashi bucket to keep in the kitchen, fine. If you want to make a worm farm, fine. If you want to establish a hot-compost heap and turn it every week, that’s fine too. Composting points out that many people evolve a mixed system for dealing with waste and when I looked at our own household to check, I counted nine different paths we use to convert green stuff into good soil or dispose of what we can’t use. Our system makes the most of our resources with the least possible time and effort but it was never planned, it just grew. The garden does, too.
Cradle to Cradle
Michael Braungart and William McDonough
Random House, April 2009, $24.95
Gardening is always a good way to come across the small wildlife around us and sifting compost can be among the most rewarding jobs in this way because it reveals many critters (‘bugs’, if you prefer) which rarely see the light of day.
Centipedes live in leaf litter and other moist shady habitats, and the one above was perfectly at home in the compost until we disturbed it. And why not? Cool, damp, dark, and full of small insects to eat … just about perfect. It wasn’t enormous but at just under 60mm long it was probably big enough to give someone a nasty nip and was treated with due caution during the photo shoot before being released. For more about centipedes, visit the pages of CSIRO or the Queensland Museum.
Fat white elephant beetle larvae are common in the compost, too, and we sometimes see larvae of smaller scarabs – or even the emerging adult, like this beautiful green one. We saw another of these today but it flew off before I could get a photo. All these beetles spend time underground as grubs and dig their way out after metamorphosing into their adult form. They sensibly wait until the soil softens before doing that, so they emerge in great numbers at the beginning of the Wet; we call the pretty ones Christmas beetles but I’ve got to say they are too late for that this season.
A few days ago I found a large beetle pupa (not a cicada nymph as I first thought and said) when I was emptying a plant-pot which had nothing much in it but weeds. We often see the cast-off exoskeleton of the cicada nymph, hanging on a plant like this with its back split open where the adult has emerged, and the elephant beetle larvae, but I had never seen either a living nymph or an elephant beetle pupa. One big difference which I should have noticed is that the cicada nymph has strong digging claws on its front legs but the beetle doesn’t.
This illustration of the beetle’s whole life cycle depicts a different species but the resemblance is clear.