Just the other day, I discovered a partially finished bottle of Lucozade left behind 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. 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 urgent tidying is underway. As I’m expecting a baby, I’ve enlisted a local 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 green manure.
Green manure are superheroes when it comes to improving soil health.
My gardening friend Claire has previously discussed green manure, as they play a key role in crop rotation for edible gardens. But, the only things I’m harvesting from my garden right now are a few foraged apples and some hardy herbs.
My ambitions for the garden are simple and steady – and improving the soil is my main priority. To update concerned readers, the scaffolding is for roof repairs, and the garden boundaries are yet to be fixed, but the neighbours agree with replacing them.
Cover crops are like superheroes for your garden’s foundation. Soil likes to be covered, which is why unwanted plants pop up. Yet by sowing vigorous crops, you can control weeds, attract pollinators, host pest-eating creatures, and enrich the soil with nutrients.
Green manure plants aren’t always showy – though some, like lupins ‘Blue Sonet’ and a flowering legume, have lovely blooms – but their role is to thrive rather than look decorative. Once established, you can dig them into the soil, chop them for mulch, or let them decompose for earthworms to incorporate. Their work happens below the surface.
Autumn is perfect for sowing these cold-season plants. My selection includes rye grass, which breaks up heavy earth, a nitrogen-lifter, a weed-suppressor, and field beans.
It feels rewarding in sowing something knowing it’s temporary – at least above ground.