My Wonderful Garbage

 

Delicate Pink Worm Strings

Feeding the Worms

by Danusha Laméris

Ever since I found that earth worms have taste buds

all over the delicate pink strings of their bodies, 

I pause dropping apple peels into the compost bin, imagine

the dark, writhing ecstasy, the sweetness of apples

permeating their pores. I offer beets and parsley,

avocado, and melon, the feathery tops of carrots.

I'd always thought theirs a menial life, eyeless and hidden,

almost vulgar--though now, it seems, they bear a pleasure 

so sublime, so decadent, I want to contribute however I can,

forgetting, a moment, my place on the menu.

I'll admit it right now. I'm a pretty lazy composter. We have a bin in the backyard, and have for years. But I don't do much to help it along. And I haven't pulled any finished compost out of the door at the bottom since I set it up in 2015. I don't crush my eggshells, and I never peel off the plastic tags from the produce. I have a special tool for stirring up and turning the compost, but I forget about it for months or years. We used to have 2 bins, before we moved, but only kept one to save space. And since I set it up, oh so many years ago,  I have done precious little besides pouring in the kitchen scraps and tossing in the occasional armful of dry fall leaves when it gets too wet. I could feel guilty about my shortcomings, but I don't. It's compost. And lucky for me, the compost bin basically runs itself.

The Bin

About 2 1/2 months ago, the compost bin was getting close to overflowing. We had some painters coming to work around the house and I was self-conscious about the strong smell of coffee grounds and orange peels that would waft off the top of the un-turnable pile for a few days after dumping, right next to their work area. I knew it was time to empty it out, and even move it to a new and better place. But I was not in the mood to do that. Besides everything else, a large contingent of winged ants had amassed on the outside of the bin, preparing for mating flights. They were there for days. This wasn't a good time to dig in. So I just stopped using the bin for a while. It felt strange putting all the kitchen trimmings in the trash, after making a habit of saving scraps for composting. Our trash bags were suddenly wet and smelly, and the outdoor garbage bin filled faster. 

Inside the bin: Stickers, shells, avocado pits. Note large ant pile of humus on lower left.
(I took out the stick--don't know what that was doing there)

One day, about 6 weeks later (painting took a long time), I got curious and opened the lid of the bin. To my amazement, the pile had sunk a good 6 inches. It smelled gorgeous--fresh and earthy. A large colony of ants had settled in and had fluffed up a pile of the rich, dark humus--the result of the composted plant matter. It turns out that ants do a lot of work in a compost bin, turning over the detritus and bringing in fungus and bacteria that help break everything down. I read that turning the pile can deter them. Good thing I never maintain my compost bin! (Little joke.)

Tiny flies and spider webs

Special Spider Habitat in an Eggshell

Potato Bugs

Roaches Dive for Cover

Earwig Among the Ants (I don't know if this is a peaceful encounter)

As I examined the shrunken heap, I was fascinated to see the many arthropod inhabitants. I saw tiny flies and flying insects on the walls, and figured that they must eventually end up as food for the dozens of spiders who had each inhabited her own eggshell. Potato bugs (or roly-polys or pill bugs) scurried out of sight when I lifted the lid, as did the numerous, large cockroaches and earwigs--the detritus eating A-Team! Sometimes when I opened the lid, a lucky fly would land on the decaying produce (or maybe they were unlucky if they got shut in and eaten by the spiders). 

Free Range Spider

Fly on the Ant Mound

False Blister Beetle Seems Out of Place Here--Usually Found on Flowers

Egg Casings--not sure species

Green Bottle Fly

Checking on the goings on in the compost bin has become my latest hobby. I find something new every time I look. I enjoy quickly lifting the lid to see if anything surprising is happening in the darkness. The sunlight and my movement causes quick dives for cover. Many of my photos of the scurriers are blurry or partial because of that mad dash for shelter! This week when I looked, I noticed a new, larger species of ant patrolling the rim of the bin. I don't know my ants well, so I can't be sure they were not just the soldiers of the ones I'd seen before, but it would not surprise me to know that there were several species living inside. I also found large clusters of ants tending eggs. Some had even taken over the egg shells that had previously been occupied by spiders. 

Ants, Eggs and Larvae in an Onion

Ants Have Evicted the Spider

I guess the point of this all is that there is wonder to be found everywhere, if you just look. Even in the compost. After seeing the multiverse that exists in my compost pile, I feel a bit hesitant to move it or stir it up, because it's so marvelous. But I also know that my garden can always use some nice rich soil, and I'm tired of throwing away all those valuable veggie scraps. And the worms and ants and spiders and roaches will all get back to work again about as fast as I can set up the bin in the new location. They're self starters. 

Fresh, Sweet Humus, with some Cantaloupe Seeds Tossed in for Fun

 

Friend or Foe?

Google is an amazing tool. You can use it to learn about almost anything. I was moving pots in the yard yesterday and found a bizarre creature curled up under one of the saucers. At first I thought it was a tiny snake. I've found them in the yard before, in about the same location. But this was slimy. I thought for a while that it was just a long worm, but as I looked more closely, I realized that it was much longer than a worm, striped, flat and not segmented, and the most unusual part--it had a head that looked like a hammer or spade. It moved very gracefully and reminded me of a slug. A really long slug. Probably 6 inches long uncoiled. Really weird critter. I ran in the house, grabbed the camera, and shot a few pictures.

"Flat Head Worm"

I carefully moved the wormy thing to a new, safe location, and covered it with a dish to keep it from being squashed. Then I turned to the computer and Google to figure out what on earth I'd just found. It's always exciting to discover a new animal in your neighborhood! I didn't know where to start, so I just described it. I typed in "flat head worm". Bingo! I could see right away from the images that I'd found my animal. Unfortunately, as I read on, I learned that it wasn't good. I had found a Land Planarian or Flatworm (Bipalium kewense). Almost every article I read said that I should kill it right  away because they are invaders from Asia and they dine exclusively on earthworms. I was so disappointed. I really like this fascinating worm. But now that I know what it does, there's no way I can let it outside again. I'm not good at killing, either, so I'm considering keeping it as a pet for a couple of weeks.

My Pet Planarian, exploring

So what's the big deal? Who cares if it eats worms? Well, just like the Dung Beetles from my last post, earthworms are extremely important decomposers. They eat rotting vegetation and turn it into rich soil. They crawl through the dirt, aerating and supplementing with their waste, or castings. If we didn't have earthworms, we'd be buried in plant debris. Earthworms are essential, keystone species that many other organisms and systems depend on. But the funny thing about our earthworms is that they are not all native to North America. Those night-crawlers we use for fishing? Not native. One article that I read said that 60 percent of the earthworms in North America are not native, coming from Asia and Europe, brought here in the horticulture trade starting in the 1600's. There is a fascinating article from National Geographic about the Jamestown Colony which talks about the impact of the importation of non-native earthworms and other species. These non-native earthworms are also decomposers, but they are so numerous and voracious that they eat too much plant debris and dig it deeper into the ground. Some plants and trees need more leaf debris for slow leaching of the nutrients and ground cover and cannot extract nutrients from the soil if it is too deep. So the non-native earthworms may be harming and changing our ecosystems in myriad ways. Now that I think about it, maybe it's a good thing if the Flatworm is added to the mix. Maybe the Planarians can keep the non-native earthworms in check, too. Who knows? Anyway, who am I to point fingers and decide which species can stay in Florida?  I was born in Utah.  Once you start messing with the natural order of things, there is so much moral ambiguity that I get foggy. I think this time I'm going to err on the side of kindness and I'll let my pet Planarian go. I'm not all that keen on killing animals, even rotten ones (like cockroaches) and I've never seen one before, so they are not running roughshod over my yard. Yet. (Famous last words.)