Just the other day, I discovered a half-empty bottle of an energy drink left behind in the euphorbia trough by one of the scaffolders. A visiting architect commented, “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 sprouting in the back corner.
Now, however, some necessary firefighting is underway. As I’m expecting a baby, I’ve enlisted a local gardener to tackle troublesome weeds like a prickly weed and young tree shoots from the neighbour’s tree, while leaving the good stuff. Then, in the newly cleared patches, I’ll be sowing green manure.
Green manure are superheroes when it comes to improving soil health.
My gardening friend Claire has written about cover crops, as they play a key role in seasonal planting for edible gardens. But, the only things I’m harvesting from my garden right now are a few scrumped apples and some hardy 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 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, bring in bees, host pest-eating creatures, and enrich the soil with nutrients.
Green manure plants may not look exciting – though some, like lupins ‘Blue Sonet’ and a flowering legume, have lovely blooms – but their role is to grow vigorously 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 worms to pull down. The real magic happens below the surface.
Autumn is perfect for sowing these cold-season plants. My selection includes rye grass, great for clay soil, a nitrogen-lifter, a weed-suppressor, and field beans.
It feels rewarding in sowing something that won’t stay forever – on the surface, anyway.
