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 commented, “Are you sure that’s Lucozade?” giving me a new perspective.
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.
Now, however, some urgent tidying is underway. As I’m expecting a baby, I’ve enlisted a local gardener to remove troublesome weeds like green alkanet and robinia saplings from the neighbour’s tree, but keeping desirable plants. Then, in the open patches, I’ll be sowing cover crops.
Cover crops act like heroes when it comes to boosting soil quality.
My gardening friend Claire has previously discussed green manure, as they are essential in seasonal planting for edible gardens. But, the only things I’m picking 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 my main priority. To update concerned readers, the scaffolding is for roof repairs, and the garden boundaries are still wobbly, but the neighbours are on board with replacing them.
Cover crops are like superheroes 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, host pest-eating creatures, and enrich the soil with nutrients.
Green manure plants may not look exciting – though some, like certain lupin varieties and bird’s foot trefoil, have lovely blooms – but their purpose is to thrive 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 forage rye, which breaks up heavy earth, Italian ryegrass, vetch, and field beans.
It feels rewarding in planting seeds knowing it’s temporary – on the surface, anyway.
