Just the other day, I discovered 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?” 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 growing in the back corner.
Now, however, some urgent tidying is underway. Being six months pregnant, I’ve enlisted a professional 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 open patches, I’ll be sowing cover crops.
Green manure are superheroes when it comes to improving soil health.
My gardening friend Claire has written about green manure, as they play a key role in crop rotation for edible gardens. 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 simple and steady – and enhancing soil health is my main priority. For those wondering, the scaffolding is for roof repairs, and the fences are yet to be fixed, but the neighbours agree with the plan.
Green manure are like superheroes for soil health. Bare soil invites weeds, which is why unwanted plants pop up. But by sowing vigorous crops, you can suppress weeds, bring in bees, host pest-eating creatures, and fix nitrogen.
Cover crops may not look exciting – though some, like certain lupin varieties and a flowering legume, have lovely blooms – but their purpose is to thrive 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 incorporate. The real magic happens underground.
Autumn is perfect for sowing these cold-season plants. I’ve chosen forage rye, which breaks up heavy earth, Italian ryegrass, vetch, and field beans.
It feels rewarding in sowing something that won’t stay forever – at least above ground.
