Once I fully understood that soil is an entire complex kingdom all of its own, alive with untold trillions of micro organisms and organisms, and that creating, maintaining and advantaging that kingdom system was essential to life on earth, I was hooked. Soil is life. Soil is beautiful.
“Despite all our accomplishments, we owe our existence to a six-inch layer of topsoil and the fact [that] it rains.” Radio broadcaster Paul Harvey got it right when he said those few wise words in 1978, during a Future Farmers of America convention.
In the Pacific Northwest part of the world in which I live, this soil (biology) + water = life equation is apparent all around me. The temperate rainforest and our coastal weather systems produce rich humus within a beautiful whole system of life, death, decomposition and regeneration. The cooler on average temperatures of temperate rainforests moderate humus decomposition rates, and the thick coniferous canopies regulate and slow the release of organic nutrients.
Humus is the dark organic soil product of the natural composting of leaves, twigs, dead animals and minerals, by micro organisms (bacteria, actinomycetes, fungi, algae and protozoa), and organisms (worms, nematodes, mites, beetles, ants, springtails, etc), regulated by moisture and temperature. Soil organisms break down plant and animal tissue, bones and fibre, releasing stored nutrients and converting them into forms that are usable/consumable by plants. I took the photos above during a mushroom foraging outing on Cortes Island, where the temperate rainforest floor was springy from layers upon layers of decomposing material, adding to a thick bed of rich black humus that smelled of mushrooms and wet dog.
Sound familiar? Sound like composting? Exactly! Knowing this simple but amazing fact, and emulating nature’s incredible logic in creating, utilizing, feeding and restoring organic compost in all aspects of gardening, has changed everything for me. Seeing a cluster of mushrooms growing up through a bed of fennel and beans makes me happy, because I know that the fungi and vegetables have formed a mutually beneficial below-ground mycorrhizal alliance. To me, this is a sign of life and soil health, one that I see both in the garden and in the greenhouse, during periods of heavier moisture and/or precipitation, most particularly in spring and fall.
I am not a biologist, botanist, mycologist or scientist of any sort, but like most permaculture designers, I am deeply intuitive, instinctive and dialed-in to nature and natural systems. It comes naturally to me, to emulate nature’s logic when and where I can, but also to accept that existing urban environments are largely disconnected from it. Thankfully, there are endless way in which we can capture whole natural systems and transport them in small chunks on their own, or together with other small systems, into our urban and suburban lives.
Organic compost is a product of one of those small systems. We are fortunate to be able to make some of our own compost, but many (I would venture ‘most’) people cannot make sufficient enough quantity to support regular feeding of their gardens. I have adequate square footage in my outdoor garden to have a large above-ground compost system, but in deference to the black bear, raccoons, skunks, coyotes, wild cats and other wildlife that inhabit the forest around me, I don’t. If you are interested in largerer scale composting visit UK market gardener Charles Dowding’s website. He knows what he’s doing.
I worm compost only, and in-ground exclusively, in raised beds, in closed and lidded systems that do not attract and negatively habituate wildlife, and that stay frost-free during the winter. These worm composts manage most of our green kitchen waste*, plus egg shells, a portion of coffee grounds, and some shredded brown paper. Many of our friends keep handsome purpose-built freestanding worm composts outside in the shade on their balconies or patios, taking them inside for the winter, continuing feeding in their basements, mudrooms or garages. Worm castings (poop), and worm poop tea are nature’s most magnificent natural fertilizers. *compost worms don’t love citrus, onions or garlic so I toss those into our yard clippings bin
Our yard trimmings are set out at the curb weekly in compostable brown bags, for pick-up and transfer to a community-based composting facility. Household (kitchen) greens are set out for pick-up as well, in separate containers, but because we worm compost, we don’t use the greens service. Residential and commercial pick-up programs for composting yard trimmings and household greens are critical to environmental health as they keep organics out of landfills, where, if buried deeply in anaerobic (without oxygen) environments, they create methane gas. When released into the atmosphere, methane gas is 25 times more potent as a greenhouse gas, than CO2 (carbon dioxide). Composting on the other hand promotes aerobic (oxygenated) decomposition into a useful waste by-product.
Compost from community and residential operations are used in and sold to commercial, parks and recreation, agricultural, and remediation clients, but as it is not organic, I cannot use it in my permaculture garden. I have a source for organic compost made by an organic farm collective out in the valley. The product is very well composted to ensure that weed and other seeds, plus pathogens like ecoli are killed at sufficiently high temperatures, over sufficiently long periods of time. Frequent turning and intense composting action break the inputs down impressively well, so the delivered product is quite light and airy, and finely grained. After I receive the compost by the tiptruck load, the steaming pile stays very warm for months on end, unless I open it up for use.
My raised and in-ground beds are filled with 100% organic compost at the outset, and I top them up each spring, and again slightly in the fall before winter planting. I keep about six bushel buckets full in the greenhouse, for use as a seed starter mix. I admit to being a bit of a control freak about seedlings and transplanting, preferring to start pretty much everything except carrots, parsnips and radishes from seed, in pots. Given that seeds have a less than 100% germination rate, I prefer to know how many viable plants I have to distribute in any given space, ‘before’ I commit to placement. This allows me to space the seedlings evenly and have no crazy-making blank spots. Weird, I know. I like symmetry, can’t be helped. I happen to have a greenhouse, but you absolutely don’t need one to start seeds in pots.
Also, I believe that environment is key to plants health and that plants should be raised in the soil they are born into. Starting seeds in fined organic compost, then transplanting them into beds of organic compost, really improves their odds. Unless a predator critter or my veggie dog @davetheyorkie digs them up, they make the transition successfully pretty much every time.
To prepare compost for seed modules or small pots ( I don’t use seeds trays but many people do), I rub small handfuls of organic compost between my palms, and drop it from a height (Jamie Oliver with chopped herbs style) of a few feet, into a rubber horse grain bucket. This action slightly separates the particles and aerates them slightly, without damaging the biology or drying out the soil. Tiny wee seeds then stand an excellent chance of breaking through the surface of the soil when they germinate, and they are born into a soil environment rich in nutrients that helps them grow into strong, healthy seedlings for transplant.
I understand that sterile soil mixes and synthetic soil mixes work well for many gardeners, but I know too that the germination failure rate for fibre-rich potting mixes can be quite high, if the surface dries out only slightly, developing an impenetrable crust. Screened (or palm-rubbed) compost on the other hand, due to its organics content, retains water extremely well, and is resistant to surface crusting.
Thankfully, organic compost is available at most garden centres, often at a lower cost per bag than sterile or fortified mixes. Many towns and cities have one or more sources of bulk organic compost available for delivery. Before I had enough raised beds to warrant bulk delivery, I would drive my SUV to the compost yard, and load up nine beat-up old five-gallon buckets of compost per trip, until I had enough. It was great exercise and if I made three trips, I could bring home one cubic yard of compost (one five-gallon bucket = 1 square foot more or less) in an afternoon. One 4’x8’x18″ raised bed equals 48 square feet and requires 1.5 cubic yards of compost (27 cubic ft in one cubic yard).
This fall, while I was waiting to receive delivery of some off-sale polycarbonate corrugated plastic sheets to use in the construction of simple coldframes for three of my raised beds, I was unable (too busy canning summer produce) to pot-up some Italian endive, wild mustards, purslane and spinach. I had sown multiple seeds per pot, intending to pot them up further individually, as they came of age, as I had done with the rapini seeds Frank had given me in September.
It didn’t happen that way, but because they were sown in compostable pots, I was able to peel down the by-then self-composting pulpy sides and gently break apart the seedlings for transplanting in their raised bed and some winter patio pots for friends . I tossed the pot bits straight into the in-bed worm composting bins, where they were immediately put upon by hundreds of red wrigglers, seemingly ravenous for carbon content.
Potting up in a timely fashion accelerates growth and strong core/stalk development, and a healthy and robust root structure. The difference between the properly potted up rapini, and the neglected endive was apparent. I decided to plant the endive six inches apart in rows spaced six inches apart, rather than the recommend 12-18 inches on 18 inches. I expect them to grow more slowly and need friends and family closer by, than they would have had I not been heedless. Just a few weeks neglect during cold weather can impact plant development significantly. I am confident though, that the endive will find comfort from fellow Italians Frank’s rapini, and make the most of their protected coldframe community.
Another benefit of using compost for seed starting is the compost tea by-product that is produced after watering more than one should. While I try to maintain a constant soil moisture and texture similar to moist chocolate cake, and water only minimally but consistently so that the moisture need not run through the pot, it happens that I forget or the temperature rises so much that extra watering is required. On those occasions, the run-though is nothing short of instant high potency compost tea, which I collect from the tray that the small pots are resting in, and set aside for future use. To let this precious liquid commodity dry up in the tray, would be such a waste.
And finally, on the subject of fragile seedlings, I’ve adopted an optimal way of watering wee sprouts in the greenhouse. A resource saving method that doesn’t bend tender shoots under water weight, or soak the soil unnecessarily. A bulk pump sprayer, intended for pesticides (which I of course would never use) but used only for water, sprays a beautiful fine, temperate rainforest-like mist that tiny green guys love. The one-gallon size tank full of water lasts seemingly forever. These sprayers are often available used on Facebook Marketplace and in thrift stores (make sure to wash them well with hot biodegradable soap and water, before using.
I look forward to the time later this winter, when the Italian greens are ready to harvest, and I can make our family favourite risotto with cambozola, apples and toasted walnuts, topped with braised rapini and endive. I will definitely post the recipe.