I recently found a partially finished bottle of Lucozade left behind in the euphorbia trough by one of the scaffolders. An architect friend 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; coming back from a trip, I spotted a sunflower growing in the back corner.
This week, though, some urgent tidying is underway. Being six months pregnant, I’ve hired a professional gardener to tackle invasive plants like green alkanet and robinia saplings 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 boosting soil quality.
My gardening friend Claire has previously discussed cover crops, as they play a key role in seasonal planting for vegetable plots. However, 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 top of the list. For those wondering, the scaffolding is for roof repairs, and the garden boundaries are yet to be fixed, but the neighbours agree 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 control weeds, attract pollinators, host pest-eating creatures, and fix nitrogen.
Cover crops may not look exciting – though some, like lupins ‘Blue Sonet’ and bird’s foot trefoil, have pretty flowers – but their role is to grow vigorously rather than look decorative. After they’ve grown, you can dig them into the soil, cut them for compost, or let them decompose for earthworms to incorporate. The real magic happens below the surface.
Now is the ideal time for sowing these overwintering crops. My selection includes forage rye, which breaks up heavy earth, a nitrogen-lifter, a weed-suppressor, and field beans.
There’s satisfaction in sowing something that won’t stay forever – on the surface, anyway.
