Just the other day, I discovered a partially finished 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.
In short, the garden is in disarray. But there’s a lot to be said for negligence; after returning from holiday, I spotted a sunflower sprouting in the back corner.
This week, though, some urgent tidying is underway. Being six months pregnant, I’ve hired a professional gardener to tackle troublesome weeds like a prickly weed and young tree shoots from the neighbour’s tree, while leaving the good stuff. Next, in the newly cleared patches, I’ll be sowing green manure.
Cover crops act like heroes when it comes to improving soil health.
A fellow garden writer has written about green manure, as they play a key role in crop rotation for vegetable plots. However, the only things I’m picking from my garden right now are a few scrumped apples and some woody herbs.
My ambitions for the garden are modest and consistent – and enhancing soil health is my main priority. For those wondering, the scaffold is for roof repairs, and the fences are still wobbly, but the neighbours agree with replacing them.
Green manure are like superheroes for soil health. Bare soil invites weeds, which is why unwanted plants pop up. Yet by sowing fast-growing plants, you can suppress weeds, attract pollinators, shelter beneficial insects, and fix nitrogen.
Green manure plants aren’t always showy – though some, like certain lupin varieties and a flowering legume, have lovely blooms – but their purpose is to grow vigorously rather than look decorative. After they’ve grown, you can turn them under, chop them for mulch, or let them decompose for worms to pull down. The real magic happens below the surface.
Autumn is perfect for sowing these overwintering crops. I’ve chosen forage rye, great for clay soil, a nitrogen-lifter, a weed-suppressor, and field beans.
It feels rewarding in planting seeds knowing it’s temporary – on the surface, anyway.
