Poetry of Decay
A couple of times each week I carry my coffee can full of coffee grounds, egg shells and banana peels to the compost pile. That, combined with grass clippings and autumn’s leaves create quite a pile.
But once decomposition begins, the pile shrinks and becomes the dark brownish- black compost that the garden seems to love.
Aside from this wonderful function, I have found a poetic side of decay that is truly beautiful. Our old greenhouse is a monument to oxidation. Rust’s rich color combined with the familiar shape of the tools they once were create odd sculptures.
My neighbor’s rhubarb turns a beautiful color and shape after a series of autumn freezes.
And last year I found a squirrel’s nearly complete skeleton in a corner of the compost pile. Even it’s tiny molars can be seen in the photo below. 
