I recently found a partially finished bottle of Lucozade placed in the euphorbia trough by one of the scaffolders. An architect friend commented, “Are you sure that’s Lucozade?” giving me a new perspective.
In short, the garden is a bit of a mess. Sometimes neglect has its perks; coming back from a trip, I spotted a sunflower sprouting in the back corner.
This week, though, some urgent tidying is underway. Being six months pregnant, I’ve enlisted a professional gardener to tackle invasive plants like a prickly weed and young tree shoots from the neighbour’s tree, but keeping desirable plants. Then, in the newly cleared patches, I’ll be sowing cover crops.
Cover crops act like heroes when it comes to improving soil health.
A fellow garden writer has written about green manure, as they are essential in crop rotation for edible gardens. But, 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. For those wondering, the scaffold is for roof repairs, and the fences are still wobbly, but the neighbours are on board with the plan.
Cover crops are like superheroes for soil health. Bare soil invites weeds, which is why weeds appear. Yet by sowing vigorous crops, you can suppress weeds, attract pollinators, host pest-eating creatures, and fix nitrogen.
Cover crops aren’t always showy – though some, like certain lupin varieties and bird’s foot trefoil, have pretty flowers – but their role is to grow vigorously rather than be admired. After they’ve grown, you can turn them under, chop them for mulch, or leave them on the surface for earthworms to pull down. The real magic happens underground.
Autumn is perfect for sowing these cold-season plants. My selection includes rye grass, great for clay soil, a nitrogen-lifter, vetch, and beans that aerate soil.
There’s satisfaction in sowing something knowing it’s temporary – on the surface, anyway.
