I promised you a tragedy. Though it might sound more like a horror story to some. The latest in the composting worm tales is that tails are scant. Tails of my red worms, that is. The millions of tiny white worms I previously mistook for the babies of my worms were, in fact, intruders… The deaths came suddenly. One day last week I checked on my worms. They seemed quite content, stirring about alongside their tiny white babies. But the next day when I peeled back the net lid of my box I noticed a fetid smell that only a worm composter would recognize: rotting worms. In a matter of 24 hours, my beloved red worms had melted into a mass of mush in the middle of the box. My mimizu! Their supposed babies, however, seemed quite alive. The internet later revealed them to, in fact, be pot worms, which love acidic conditions. My red worms did not. Most people would feel repulsed by such an experience. Rather, I was guilt ridden, and lonely from the loss of my only pets, as any loving caretaker would be. Further investigation on the balcony lead me to a likely culprit: soil I’d purchased from a local Itoyokado. I had supplemented the worm bin with this soil just days before the die off. This soil also turned out to be infected with a fungus (which prefer acidic soil) that has eaten the roots of my desperate beet seedlings. While my thumb may never have been green, it is looking a little gray these days. Despite the tragedy, I am inclined to see the positive side to my fitful and rather short lived experiment with red worms in Tokyo. I am now experimenting with a new way of composting namagomi (organics) on my balcony. Now that I have sealed off the lid, it seems to be composting fine just with the bacteria introduced by the food. When there is sun. As for winter composting, I am going to have to find another solution. More on that as the months pass.

A piece of the famous Hiroshima Panels, at the Maruki Gallery in Saitama