I recently found a half-empty bottle of Lucozade left behind in the euphorbia trough by one of the scaffolders. A visiting architect commented, “Are you sure that’s Lucozade?” which made me see it differently.
In short, the garden is in disarray. But there’s a lot to be said for negligence; after returning from holiday, I spotted a sunflower growing in the back corner.
This week, though, some necessary firefighting is underway. As I’m expecting a baby, I’ve enlisted a local gardener to tackle invasive plants like green alkanet and young tree shoots from the neighbour’s tree, while leaving the good stuff. Then, in the newly cleared patches, I’ll be sowing cover crops.
Green manure are superheroes when it comes to boosting soil quality.
My gardening friend Claire has previously discussed cover crops, as they are essential in seasonal planting for vegetable plots. But, the only things I’m picking from my garden right now are a few foraged apples and some hardy herbs.
My ambitions for the garden are modest and consistent – and enhancing soil health is top of the list. To update concerned readers, the scaffold is for roof repairs, and the garden boundaries are still wobbly, but the neighbours agree with replacing them.
Cover crops are like superheroes for your garden’s foundation. Bare soil invites weeds, which is why unwanted plants pop up. But by sowing vigorous crops, you can control weeds, attract pollinators, shelter beneficial insects, and fix nitrogen.
Green manure plants aren’t always showy – though some, like certain lupin varieties and bird’s foot trefoil, have pretty flowers – but their role is to grow vigorously rather than be admired. After they’ve grown, you can dig them into the soil, chop them for mulch, or leave them on the surface for earthworms to incorporate. The real magic happens underground.
Autumn is perfect for sowing these overwintering crops. I’ve chosen rye grass, which breaks up heavy earth, a nitrogen-lifter, vetch, and field beans.
It feels rewarding in planting seeds knowing it’s temporary – on the surface, anyway.
