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?” giving me a new perspective.
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 sprouting in the back corner.
This week, though, some urgent tidying is underway. Being six months pregnant, I’ve enlisted a professional gardener to remove troublesome weeds like green alkanet and young tree shoots from the neighbour’s tree, but keeping desirable plants. Then, in the newly cleared patches, I’ll be sowing green manure.
Green manure are superheroes when it comes to boosting soil quality.
My gardening friend Claire has written about cover crops, 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 hardy herbs.
My ambitions for the garden are simple and steady – 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 are on board with replacing them.
Cover crops work wonders for your garden’s foundation. Soil likes to be covered, which is why unwanted plants pop up. But by sowing vigorous crops, you can suppress weeds, attract pollinators, shelter beneficial insects, and enrich the soil with nutrients.
Cover crops may not look exciting – though some, like lupins ‘Blue Sonet’ and a flowering legume, have lovely blooms – but their purpose is to grow vigorously rather than look decorative. After they’ve grown, you can dig them into the soil, chop them for mulch, 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 rye grass, great for clay soil, Italian ryegrass, a weed-suppressor, and beans that aerate soil.
There’s satisfaction in sowing something knowing it’s temporary – on the surface, anyway.
