The Garden Gate
From corpse flowers to human composting, the month explores nature’s eerie and fascinating transformations
Stuart Neal
Stuart welcomes “Oddtober” with a tour of macabre plants and fungi, from corpse flowers to humongous fungus and even human composting.
Stuart Neal
Welcome, everyone to the zany month I call “Oddtober.” Our always sunny and positive garden topics have been hijacked, uprooted and thrown over to the shadowy garden side, where we’ll highlight death, destruction and the cornucopia of the macabre from the diabolical kingdom of flora. So, pull out the fainting couch and prepare to clutch your pearls (old-timers’ saying) — enter through the rusty, creaky, broken garden gate if you dare. Cue the fog machine and play that spooky music.
Speaking of the deceased, let’s cautiously peek at natural organic reduction (NOR), better known as human composting — bodily remains being organically broken down into fertile soil. The green burial movement presents this eco-friendly option. The process is called terramation. The body is placed in a stainless steel vessel with organic materials of wood chips, straw and alfalfa (ratio: 30 parts carbon to 1 part nitrogen). The vessel controls oxygen and moisture levels while maintaining a steady temperature of 130 to 160 degrees Fahrenheit for three days, killing off pathogens and allowing microbes to naturally break down body and organic materials. Soil formation happens in 30 to 60 days, when the body is transformed into approximately a cubic yard of nutrient-rich organic soil. Families use the soil for a memorial planting, in their gardens, or to support conservation efforts. California, Colorado, New York, Oregon, Vermont, Washington and Nevada have legalized human composting. The average cost is in the range of $4,900 to $7,000. Recompose, a Seattle company, provides this service.
Pictured: an original stain glass depiction of a sugar skull created by Stuart Neal.
Stuart Neal
From one corpse to another corpse — flower, that is. It seems the Amorphophallus titanum (titan arum), also known as “corpse flower,” bloomed this past July 11 at Akron’s Stan Hywet Estate greenhouse. What’s unusual is the bloom is 6 to 8 feet tall. The vertical spike is called the spadix. Its nauseating and distinctive putrid odor of rancid decaying meat attracts flies and various cadaver insects. The giant, pungent-smelling bloom lasts two to three days, and then the corpse flower won’t bloom again for possibly another decade.
Speaking of big and weird plants, let’s check out “humongous fungus,” known by its scientific name Armillaria ostoyae. It has the distinction of being the largest living organism on Earth, located in the Malheur National Forest in eastern Oregon. It’s a vast underground network of threadlike structures called mycelia and rhizomorphs, which weave and spread through soil and wood. It produces the parasitic and tree-destroying honey mushroom (edible). Creeping nonstop, it digests tree roots and decaying wood. Known as the decomposer, while fungus breaks down plants and trees, it ultimately enriches the forest soil.
The fungus was discovered in 1988. DNA analyses reveal the humongous fungus is a single genetically distinct individual, estimated to be potentially 8,000 years old. It covers 2,385 acres, or 3.7 square miles, roughly the size of 1,665 football fields, and is large enough to fill 250 semi-trucks.
Hint: Looking for a deadly and fast-acting poison to smear on your poison arrows? Try the flowering plant wolf bane. It’s also an effective werewolf deterrent.
“When you are reluctant to change, think of the beauty of autumn.” — VV Brown, singer/songwriter
Until next time — ferment.
Comments are closed.