Just the other day, I discovered a half-empty bottle of Lucozade placed in the euphorbia trough by one of the scaffolders. An architect friend joked, “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; coming back from a trip, I spotted a sunflower sprouting in the back corner.
This week, though, some urgent tidying is underway. As I’m expecting a baby, I’ve hired a local gardener to tackle invasive plants like green alkanet and robinia saplings from the neighbour’s tree, but keeping desirable plants. Then, in the newly cleared patches, I’ll be sowing cover crops.
Cover crops act like heroes when it comes to improving soil health.
My gardening friend Claire has previously discussed green manure, as they are essential in crop rotation for edible gardens. However, the only things I’m harvesting from my garden right now are a few foraged apples and some woody herbs.
My ambitions for the garden are modest and consistent – and improving the soil is top of the list. To update concerned readers, the scaffolding is for roof repairs, and the garden boundaries are still wobbly, but the neighbours agree with replacing them.
Green manure work wonders for soil health. Soil likes to be covered, which is why unwanted plants pop up. But by sowing vigorous crops, you can control weeds, bring in bees, shelter beneficial insects, and fix nitrogen.
Green manure plants aren’t always showy – though some, like certain lupin varieties and a flowering legume, have pretty flowers – but their purpose is to thrive rather than be admired. After they’ve grown, you can turn them under, chop them for mulch, or let them decompose for earthworms to incorporate. Their work happens below the surface.
Now is the ideal time for sowing these overwintering crops. I’ve chosen rye grass, which breaks up heavy earth, a nitrogen-lifter, a weed-suppressor, and field beans.
It feels rewarding in sowing something that won’t stay forever – on the surface, anyway.
