I recently found a half-empty bottle of an energy drink 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.
In short, the garden is a bit of a mess. But there’s a lot to be said for negligence; after returning from holiday, I spotted a sunflower growing in the back corner.
This week, though, some necessary firefighting is underway. Being six months pregnant, I’ve enlisted a local gardener to remove troublesome weeds 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.
Green manure are superheroes when it comes to improving soil health.
A fellow garden writer has previously discussed cover crops, as they play a key role in seasonal planting for edible gardens. 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. 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. But by sowing fast-growing plants, you can control weeds, attract pollinators, shelter beneficial insects, and enrich the soil with nutrients.
Green manure plants may not look exciting – though some, like certain lupin varieties and bird’s foot trefoil, have pretty flowers – but their purpose is to thrive rather than be admired. After they’ve grown, you can turn them under, cut them for compost, or leave them on the surface for worms to pull down. Their work happens underground.
Autumn is perfect for sowing these cold-season plants. My selection includes rye grass, which breaks up heavy earth, a nitrogen-lifter, vetch, and beans that aerate soil.
It feels rewarding in sowing something knowing it’s temporary – on the surface, anyway.
