Just the other day, I discovered a partially finished bottle of Lucozade left behind in the euphorbia trough by one of the scaffolders. A visiting architect joked, “Are you sure that’s Lucozade?” which made me see it differently.
All this is to say, the garden is in disarray. But there’s a lot to be said for negligence; coming back from a trip, I spotted a sunflower growing in the back corner.
Now, however, some urgent tidying is underway. As I’m expecting a baby, I’ve enlisted a professional gardener to remove invasive plants like a prickly weed and robinia saplings from the neighbour’s tree, while leaving the good stuff. Then, in the newly cleared patches, I’ll be sowing green manure.
Cover crops act like heroes when it comes to improving soil health.
My gardening friend Claire has written about green manure, as they play a key role in crop rotation for vegetable plots. But, 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 simple and steady – and enhancing soil health is top of the list. To update concerned readers, the scaffold is for roof repairs, and the fences are yet to be fixed, but the neighbours agree with the plan.
Green manure are like superheroes for soil health. Bare soil invites weeds, which is why unwanted plants pop up. Yet by sowing vigorous crops, you can control weeds, attract pollinators, host pest-eating creatures, and fix nitrogen.
Cover crops aren’t always showy – though some, like certain lupin varieties and bird’s foot trefoil, have lovely blooms – but their purpose is to thrive rather than be admired. Once established, you can dig them into the soil, cut them for compost, or let them decompose for worms to incorporate. Their work happens underground.
Autumn is perfect for sowing these cold-season plants. My selection includes rye grass, which breaks up heavy earth, a nitrogen-lifter, vetch, and field beans.
It feels rewarding in sowing something knowing it’s temporary – on the surface, anyway.
