I recently found a half-empty bottle of Lucozade placed in the euphorbia trough by one of the scaffolders. A visiting architect commented, “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; after returning from holiday, I spotted a sunflower growing in the back corner.
Now, however, some necessary firefighting is underway. Being six months pregnant, I’ve hired a local gardener to tackle troublesome weeds 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 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 seasonal planting for edible gardens. However, the only things I’m picking from my garden right now are a few scrumped apples and some hardy herbs.
My ambitions for the garden are simple and steady – and improving the soil is my main priority. To update concerned readers, the scaffold is for roof repairs, and the garden boundaries are still wobbly, but the neighbours are on board with the plan.
Cover crops are like superheroes for soil health. Bare soil invites weeds, which is why weeds appear. But by sowing vigorous crops, you can suppress weeds, attract pollinators, shelter beneficial insects, and fix nitrogen.
Cover crops aren’t always showy – though some, like lupins ‘Blue Sonet’ 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, chop them for mulch, or let them decompose for worms to incorporate. The real magic happens below the surface.
Now is the ideal time for sowing these cold-season plants. I’ve chosen rye grass, great for clay soil, a nitrogen-lifter, a weed-suppressor, and beans that aerate soil.
There’s satisfaction in sowing something that won’t stay forever – on the surface, anyway.
