It's International Compost Awareness Week
Who Knew?
Hello my friends - - Happy International Compost Awareness Week!
2014: Turning and sifting the pile.1
Grateful for worms.
2015: Turning the pile…again.
Grateful for pitchforks.
2016: Compost, during International Compost Awareness Week, before I knew it was a thing.
Grateful for fresh squeezed orange juice.
2017: Compost in Brooklyn, NY.
Grateful for community composting around the country and world.
2018: Daffodils on Coffee from Umpleby’s Cafe in Hanover.
Grateful for collaborations.
2019: Black Gold.
Grateful for time and patience.
2020: Early summer cocktails with the kids (home from college) during Covid.
Grateful for family.
2021: Daffodils on mixed paper and other stuff.
Grateful for the annual resurgence of these dependable flowers.
2022: More Daffodils, including one cheerful Pheasant’s Eye. Strange it’s still not in the vase in the kitchen window.
Grateful for the ideal of a balanced mixing and mingling of people and ideas that our democracy represents.
2023: Compost spread on my mother’s burial site.
Grateful for violets and other persistent small flowers that bring color and joy this time of year.
2024: Earth Day dismantling of our rotting composting system before we move.
Grateful for those cedar planks that lasted for 15 years, even after the bear got into the composter!2
2025: International Compost Awareness Week - - Lyn in action. Reflections on Sunday at the North Chapel in Woodstock, VT and at the Normal Williams Public Library Fertile Ground show, also in Woodstock, VT.
Grateful for regeneration, transformation and renewal of all kinds.
Time to get out and share the joy.
What does compost as metaphor mean to you?
Lilly pondering.
Amazing what happens when we keep showing up and getting our hands dirty.3
With gratitude for you being you,
Lyn
All the images in this post were created during the second week in May, when International Compost Awareness Week occurs each year.
A bear first got into our composter in 2021, about the time my mother entered palliative care…so I kept turning what we already had and adding garden waste and spent flowers…by the time of her burial in 2022, we had a fabulous batch ready for her…and I saved some so that I could ‘top dress’ her garden bed in 2023.
If you are new here, the title of this blog, 13 Tons of Love, comes from the 13 tons of compost I processed between 2009 and 2022.
Thank you making us aware of this amazing transformation!
Happy Compost Awareness Week! ❤️
Compost is comforting. Everything left after its life and purpose has a place to go and be reabsorbed into the planet.