The deer and the bears and the crows and ravens eat out of our compost pile. You’d think we’d try to do something about that. We did. For years we tried various containers and covers and bins and the like. A lot of containers and covers and bins got trashed. Bears are strong. We tried putting the compost up against the house. We ended up with bears up against the house. Enough. We said uncle. Now we just build an open pile in the far corner of the property. It’s a long trek, especially in winter, but at least we don’t have large ursine creatures hanging out on our deck in the evenings.
All this means that we don’t produce a whole lot of compost. This spring I got only enough for two and a half of our raised beds. Sophie’s bed and Fiona’s bed got a full helping of compost. Noah’s (made next) got the leftovers. Mine, the final bed, got none at all. I planted anyway.
Guess which one is Sophie’s tomato plant, and which one is mine? What an amazing illustration of the value of natural soil enrichment! I am stoked about compost! Go chickens, go, poop for all you’re worth!