Shuffling leaves to keep things growing come spring

By last weekend all my dutiful, on-the-ball neighbors had been done raking their leaves for weeks. I’d obviously missed my cue while gallivanting off through the woods on one adventure or another.

Now time was of the essence as my town’s leaf pickup crew would be swinging down our street one last time come Monday. If I didn’t get my stuff out to the curb, I’d be stuck with a pile of plant litter I couldn’t use.

Those who know me as a diehard compost creator might initially gasp at the idea I would send any of my precious yard waste to the curb, but a little explaining will go a long way here.

When my wife and I bought this place a little over 35 years ago, I made a number of “beginner’s mistakes.” First, I transplanted a chest-high pin oak to the front yard, then sent a black walnut of similar size to the back.

Had I known then what I’ve since come to learn the hard way, I would not need to spend several good hours each year moving the poison-tinged leaves, twigs and husks of the now 50-foot-tall black walnut away from my garden and out to the curb. Similarly, I would not have to spend an equal amount of time shuffling wheelbarrows full of oak leaves and acorn hulls in the opposite direction to my backyard compost pile.

For the uninitiated, the chemical compound juglone found in those black walnut byproducts is toxic to many species of plants — tomatoes are my own particular concern — and should never be included in a backyard compost pile intended for garden use.

When the city picks up my walnut waste and incorporates it into its own composting operation, the toxicity is first diluted by copious amounts of other leaves. The entire batch will then be mechanically mixed and carefully managed for at least a year before it goes back out into the world as leaf mulch. That’s plenty of time for the chemical to be naturally neutralized by oxygen, water and bacteria.

Meanwhile, while the pros handle my bad stuff, I’m fueling my own compost pile by adding kitchen waste alongside my oak “droppings” and watching my bugs work the stuff all winter long. In truth I’m not really “watching” anything during the winter months as microscopic bacteria and fungi take the lead during the cold spells while the larger creatures — earthworms, slugs, insects, millipedes and a host of other arthropods — hunker down for the winter below the warm buffer of the pile. Some of my “bugs” have given up the ghost after having laid eggs to fuel a new generation that will emerge in the spring.

Make no mistake, however, the process of decomposition continues on at least to some degree despite the cold, all the while breaking down that which was alive and thriving just a few short months ago into the building blocks of tomorrow’s greenery.

If you have comments on this column or questions about the natural world, write The Rail Trail Naturalist, P.O. Box 170, Fredericksburg, OH 44627, or email jlorson@alonovus.com. You also can follow along on Instagram @railtrailnaturalist.