I recently found a half-empty bottle of Lucozade left behind in the euphorbia trough by one of the scaffolders. A visiting architect joked, “Are you sure that’s Lucozade?” giving me a new perspective.
All this is to say, the garden is in disarray. Sometimes neglect has its perks; after returning from holiday, 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 remove invasive plants like green alkanet and robinia saplings from the neighbour’s tree, while leaving the good stuff. Next, 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 written about cover crops, as they are essential in crop rotation for edible gardens. But, the only things I’m harvesting from my garden right now are a few scrumped apples and some woody herbs.
My garden goals are modest and consistent – and improving the soil is top of the list. For those wondering, the scaffolding is for roof repairs, and the garden boundaries are still wobbly, but the neighbours agree with replacing them.
Cover crops are like superheroes for soil health. Soil likes to be covered, which is why unwanted plants pop up. Yet by sowing vigorous crops, you can suppress weeds, attract pollinators, shelter beneficial insects, and fix nitrogen.
Cover crops may not look exciting – though some, like certain lupin varieties and bird’s foot trefoil, have pretty flowers – but their role is to thrive rather than look decorative. After they’ve grown, you can dig them into the soil, cut them for compost, or leave them on the surface for earthworms to pull down. The real magic happens underground.
Autumn is perfect for sowing these overwintering crops. I’ve chosen forage rye, which breaks up heavy earth, a nitrogen-lifter, a weed-suppressor, and beans that aerate soil.
It feels rewarding in sowing something that won’t stay forever – on the surface, anyway.
