The fresh “forest floor” smell filled my nostrils as Mum twisted the lid off the compost bin. “Get a lungful,” she said, sticking her head over it and encouraging me to do so. It smelled fantastic – magical almost – raw nature broken down into dark, crumbly, nutrient rich compost; not pungent and wet like in winter.
We call it our black gold. We’ve been taking turns to stir it all year, rain or shine, mixing our compost “soup”. We add layers of kitchen waste – greens and browns – fruit skins, vegetable peelings and cardboard tubes. We chop them up so they break down more easily. We water our heap when it feels dry, with the rainwater that collects in our water butt and rolls down the drainpipe from Dad’s shed.
Compost contains bacteria known as Mycobacterium vaccae and apparently inhaling or absorbing these bacteria stimulates serotonin production in the brain, making us feel happy and relaxed. And that’s exactly how we felt, Mum and me.
We grabbed a handful of compost each and let it crumble through our fingers. We marvelled at the life that had made a home there. Our friends the woodlice, worms, slugs and snails that had come to their calling, to do their duty in the circle of life – eating, digesting and expelling black gold. Springtails sprinkled the soil like glitter, and we watched as millipedes and beetles darted in and out of the decayed detritus. They’re doing an excellent job, as are we – teamwork!
Jamie, 14
Read today’s other YCD, by Thelo, 10: ‘A sting in the tail of my surf trip’