It's a gray day and Joe's been feeling pretty crappy. We went for a leisurely amble with Jasper this morning on the levies near McInnis Golf Course. So glad we had down jackets on and gloves -- brrrr! After a few hours of napping and feeling generally miserable, Joe is now back on his feet and outside, doing something he loves: screening finished compost.
This is always a gratifying experience, checking out the worms, smelling the freshness of the dirt, appreciating that all that glorious soil amendment is the product of a natural process of decomposition for which we simply manage the conditions. Right now, it's even nicer for Joe, a great way to balance out the residual effects of super-toxic chemo and settle the mood swings of the prednisone.
There's real solace in the compost, too, actually. It's pretty hard not to be optimistic, not to be excited about the future, not to feel hopeful, when you're elbows-deep in fragrant new soil, dreaming of next spring and summer, what will we grow, what will we eat. Even in the darkest and coldest part of winter, the compost reminds us of what is coming, letting us feed the ground now so that it may feed us later. A little hit of summer sweetness even on this gray day.
This is delightful every year, but especially heartening right now, such an essential part of Joe's own springtime return. :)