Just the other day, I discovered a half-empty bottle of an energy drink placed 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; coming back from a trip, 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. Then, in the newly cleared patches, I’ll be sowing cover crops.
Cover crops act like heroes when it comes to boosting soil quality.
My gardening friend Claire has written about green manure, as they are essential in crop rotation for edible gardens. However, 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 modest and consistent – and enhancing soil health is top of the list. To update concerned readers, the scaffolding is for roof repairs, and the fences are still wobbly, but the neighbours are on board with replacing them.
Cover crops work wonders for your garden’s foundation. Bare soil invites weeds, which is why unwanted plants pop up. Yet by sowing vigorous crops, you can suppress weeds, bring in bees, shelter beneficial insects, and fix nitrogen.
Cover crops aren’t always showy – though some, like lupins ‘Blue Sonet’ and a flowering legume, have pretty flowers – but their purpose is to thrive rather than be admired. After they’ve grown, you can turn them under, chop them for mulch, or let them decompose for earthworms to incorporate. The real magic happens underground.
Autumn is perfect for sowing these overwintering crops. I’ve chosen rye grass, great for clay soil, a nitrogen-lifter, vetch, and beans that aerate soil.
It feels rewarding in sowing something knowing it’s temporary – on the surface, anyway.
