Posts Tagged ‘decay’
Decay… Again
broccoli leaf
Once again I am struck by the aesthetic side of decomposition. This time I took the broccoli leaf into the studio to photograph it. It was a little late in the evening and pretty dark for photography outside.
This is the same type of leaf that in June I was so taken by its waterproof quality. It now looks very different. No longer waterproof, it has taken a distinctly autumn-ish color. It looks worn and ragged.
As my garden ages it changes in so many ways. Leaves like this broccoli leaf become battle scarred. Tomato plants wither from the inside as they seem to yield their energy to the fruits as they ripen. The same fate falls to Noah’s pumpkin plants. They look horrible – just dying – again, in sacrifice to the beautiful pumpkins they produce.
Only the pepper plants continue to look as virile as their fruits.
This is the period of the greatest harvest. It comes at a price the plant itself pays. We enjoy the harvest but I also watch as the plants begin to succumb to their efforts.
No Progress on the Greenhouse
Clematis on greenhouse
So far our plans to turn the greenhouse into something other than an overgrown home for wild animals and rusty tools have been put on hold.
Instead, I have taken the easy way out and continue to do with it what I can. I photograph it.
I enjoy photographing the building season to season and year after year. Because we have lived with it for so long there is a Dorian Gray-quality to the experience. (Of course it is the greenhouse that ages and not us.)
As its architectural elements continue to fade away, the focal point each summer has become the clematis we planted against the south side when we moved here. A climbing rose planted years ago also helps to soften the deterioration.
If the flowers give the greenhouse meaning that may be enough for me to keep it the way it is for another year.
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. 
