Life’s compost heap

Rosie hesitated by the weeping cherry tree and reflected. A memento of a life cut short. The pain of losing their first baby had faded over the years and become a part of what made Rosie the person she was now. It’s as if the things that had happened to her had composted away in her head.  The tough experiences were like the egg shells and mango stones of her mental compost heap. Mixed with the mundane potato peelings of everyday life they’d eventually broken down to a rich mulch that had given her strength and confidence to blossom.