On the decomposition of organic photosynthetic bodies

It is the end of another long and trying week of work and ground-level politics. Next week is bound to be more of the same, punctuated by the Election Day festivities and what may be just the start of a prolonged and arduous process of counts, recounts, suits, and counter-suits that will possibly determine the outcome of the Presidential race sometime before the scheduled Inauguration.

Tomorrow I had planned to rake the leaves from the Oak tree in my front yard, maybe take my car for an oil change, go to afternoon Mass, and then grab a quick nap before heading out to a bar/restaurant at 10:00 to see a friend of mine play. Unfortunately, the plan has hit a major snag: my Oak tree is selfishly holding on to something like 95% of its leaves. I could rake up the two or three dozen that have spiraled to the ground below, but it hardly seems worth the effort.

I'm an Organic gardener. I probably don't rake leaves the way most people do. I start off in the usual way, raking them into fairly high piles or long windrows (which is more convenient for my purposes). Then I pull out an electric bagging lawn mower and, wielding it like an oversized weedwhacker, begin to shred and bag the pile of leaves. I then dump the shredded leaves from the lawn mower bag into large black lawn and leaf bags. I take these bags 'round back to behind my ComposTumbler and my Toro Composter. I shovel a bit of soil or finished compost into the bag, move it to a fairly inconspicuous spot, spray in a generous amount of water from my garden hose, and then use a pitchfork to punch drainage holes through the bag. I then ignore the bag for, say, three to five years, at the end of which I have a fractionally filled bag of what is called Oak Leaf Mold. About a million of these bags will be sufficient to provide enough Oak Leaf Mold for an entire garden. But every little bit helps in the garden, and I'm keeping these leaves out of a landfill where they won't ever do anyone any good.

However, this entire process starts with the Oak tree releasing its supply of leaves, which it hasn't done yet. It's probably waiting for me to make some major travel plans. Just as I'm about to head off on a 200-mile trip, all of the leaves will fall with a mighty thud. Maybe I should keep a rake in the car, just in case.