Thankful for . . .

I am thankful for dirt, for our sweet-smelling soil, for the 15,000-year-old Missoula alluvium that organically produces half the food my wife and I eat, that nourishes shrubs in which birds nest, and that shoots up a thick matt of weeds where mice and snakes find balance. Thank you, loam, for the bounty of leaves, their movements and colors, their graceful descent to rejoin you, the homes they assemble for salamanders, earthworms and beetles, for making the perfect seedling nursery. Thank you too for an explosion of flowers all summer, magnets to hummingbirds, honeybees, bumblebees and praying mantises. And with respect to the old-growth firs that shade our house during hot spells and keep inside temperatures as much as 20 degrees cooler, many long sighs of relief. Especially, thank you for letting us give back. By composting our wastes, you sanctify our tiny contributions to your eternal, sacred cycle of Life.


(“My whole life had been spent waiting for an epiphany, a manifestation of God’s presence, the kind of transcendent, magical experience that lets you see your place in the big picture. And that is what I had with my first [compost] heap.” - Bette Midler)