In 1941, in Auckland, New Zealand, Mr F.H. Billington wrote gloomily: ". . . one thing seems certain; the national health is bad; very bad. It is equally evident also that our domestic animals, and even cultivated plants, are displaying symptoms of ill health which are tragically like our own."
Four years later, in the Cotswolds of England, Miss Maye E. Bruce was penning similar thoughts: "The increase of bad health is not confined to man, it is shared by domestic animals, and by the vegetable kingdom."
At opposite ends of the earth, these great thinkers shared a united opinion on the dire state of health on this planet. And they both agreed that salvation was not far away: it was, in fact, at the end of the garden. In the compost heap. Mr Billington and Miss Bruce were just two of the many dedicated crusaders for compost at a time when it was becoming obvious that chemical fertilisers and intensive farming were taking a toll on the land. The secret of life itself was in the soil, they maintained, and you must put back what you take out of it, "instead of doping the plants with synthetic manures".
Miss Bruce, in particular, was gripped with the desire to make better and better compost - a common syndrome among some gardeners. And, after much well documented experimentation she developed a unique system, "the Quick Return Method". Her process involves injecting the heap with a concoction of seven ingredients - wild chamomile, dandelion, common valerian, yarrow, stinging nettle, oak bark and honey - in a near-invisible dilution of 1 in 10,000, in other words, in homeopathic quantities.
Although I have not tried Miss Bruce's method (the herbal powder is available from organic outlets in the UK), I am tempted by her claim that sweet and friable compost is obtainable within four to six weeks, and with no turning of the heap, to boot. But I do make compost, and I revel in it. There is a deep and satisfying pleasure in taking the spent remains of what grows in the garden one year and turning it into compost to feed the plants that grow the following year. It is a never-ending and perfect circle of growth, decay and more growth - or life, death and rebirth, if you're feeling philosophical. I knew that I was indelibly attached to the whole cycle - and the heap - when I composted my wedding bouquet. And when I moved house shortly afterwards, I brought the heap with me (and the valuable humus from the nuptial roses and arum lilies).
Actually, it's not us human beings who make the compost at all, we just build a heap that is soon colonised by a billions-strong army of soil creatures, starting with a vanguard of millions of microbes and ending with the dark-red brandling worms that move in during the final stages. And in between, the heap is home to a teeming mass of woodlice, spiders, centipedes, millipedes, beetles and - it has to be said - slugs.
Of course, not everyone has the inclination or the space to operate this somewhat dishevelled microcosm in their garden (I've yet to see a natty compost heap). But 42 per cent of our household waste is organic, and hence compostable, and it is an awful shame to dump it. Especially as it can be turned into a miracle substance that lightens heavy soils, bulks up light soils and squarely nourishes plants. Moreover, compost can be used in place of peat in our gardens, and thus help stop the stripping of our bogs.
Gardeners who don't have their own heaps, but who hate to waste their green waste, as it were, should consider the possibility of a communal composting facility. The Irish Peatland Conservation Council (IPCC) has recently published a Guide To Community Composting by Peter Foss and Fiona Rice that reveals how to set up a local community compost scheme.
Everything is clearly and sensibly explained, from "what is compost?" to how to hold a committee meeting, to where to look for funding. The IPCC's Peter Foss is an ardent composter who runs several heaps and four worm bins at his home.
There are already a number of community composting enterprises in the country, amongst them the highly productive Greenwaste Recycling Depot at St Anne's Park. There they take in 400 cubic metres of garden waste per week - which is the equivalent of filling a rugby football pitch to a depth of over nine feet per year. Now that's a powerful amount of potential compost.
The IPCC's Guide to Community Composting is available from the IPCC's Enviro Shop, 119 Capel Street, Dublin 1. Telephone: 01-8722384. Price (incl. p & p): £6.
Greenwaste Recycling Depot, St Anne's Park, All Saints Road, Raheny, Dublin 5. Members of the public can bring along their garden waste to be recycled into largely peat-free and eco-friendly compost. People pay £1 per carload of waste and receive a free 60-litre bag of compost. Additional bags are £1 each.