Don’t waste your good material.
by Andy Scheer
This afternoon I plan to convert the leaves that cover my yard into next year’s vegetables. The process will take a few sweaty hours. But this year’s crop assures me the effort is worthwhile.
For the past dozen years, I’ve used my mulching lawnmower to chop and bag my yard full of aspen leaves. I dump them on my garden, then each spring work the compost into the soil. What was once mostly sand has become dark, rich, and easily cultivated.
As I type this, I watch my across-the-fence neighbor bag the leaves from his yard. He’s filled multiple plastic bags, then carried them out to the curbside. He doesn’t plant a garden.
As writers, what do we do
with our daily experiences?
As writers, what do we do with our daily experiences? Save and recycle them for future projects? Or let them be carried to the curb?
This morning at the bank I stood behind a 300-pound restaurant owner who’d come to deposit yesterday’s receipts. I waited to back out of my parking space as a guy in a green Chevy pickup stopped his rig behind me to talk to the man in the next spot. As I waited at the barber shop, I couldn’t help hearing as a guy who’s new in town told Guido about his experience working with Defense Department contractors. As I checked a carton of eggs at Safeway, I noticing the bleached topknot on a woman pushing her cart. And on the drive home, a gold Pontiac minivan seemed intend on keeping twice the usual number of car lengths from the next car.
Just a few experiences from a morning’s excursions. Should I take them to the curbside or save them? I like richly composted soil—for gardening or for writing.
