Just the other day, I discovered a partially finished bottle of an energy drink placed in the euphorbia trough by one of the scaffolders. A visiting architect joked, “Are you sure that’s Lucozade?” which made me see it differently.
All this is to say, the garden is in disarray. Sometimes neglect has its perks; after returning from holiday, I spotted a sunflower sprouting in the back corner.
Now, however, some necessary firefighting is underway. Being six months pregnant, I’ve enlisted a local gardener to remove invasive plants like green alkanet and young tree shoots from the neighbour’s tree, while leaving the good stuff. Next, in the newly cleared patches, I’ll be sowing cover crops.
Cover crops act like heroes 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 vegetable plots. However, the only things I’m harvesting 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 scaffold is for roof repairs, and the fences are yet to be fixed, but the neighbours are on board with replacing them.
Cover crops work wonders for your garden’s foundation. Soil likes to be covered, which is why unwanted plants pop up. But by sowing vigorous crops, you can control weeds, attract pollinators, shelter beneficial insects, and enrich the soil with nutrients.
Cover crops aren’t always showy – though some, like lupins ‘Blue Sonet’ and a flowering legume, have lovely blooms – but their purpose is to grow vigorously rather than be admired. Once established, you can dig them into the soil, cut them for compost, or leave them on the surface for worms to pull down. The real magic happens underground.
Autumn is perfect for sowing these overwintering crops. My selection includes forage rye, which breaks up heavy earth, Italian ryegrass, a weed-suppressor, and field beans.
It feels rewarding in planting seeds knowing it’s temporary – on the surface, anyway.
