Just the other day, I discovered a partially finished bottle of an energy drink 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.
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 sprouting in the back corner.
Now, however, some urgent tidying is underway. Being six months pregnant, I’ve enlisted a local gardener to remove troublesome weeds like green alkanet and young tree shoots from the neighbour’s tree, but keeping desirable plants. Next, in the newly cleared patches, I’ll be sowing cover crops.
Cover crops act like heroes when it comes to boosting soil quality.
My gardening friend Claire has previously discussed green manure, 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 hardy herbs.
My ambitions for the garden are simple and steady – and enhancing soil health is top of the list. To update concerned readers, the scaffolding is for roof repairs, and the garden boundaries are yet to be fixed, 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 suppress weeds, attract pollinators, host pest-eating creatures, and enrich the soil with nutrients.
Cover crops may not look exciting – though some, like lupins ‘Blue Sonet’ and bird’s foot trefoil, have lovely blooms – but their role is to thrive rather than be admired. Once established, you can dig them into the soil, cut them for compost, or leave them on the surface for earthworms to pull down. Their work 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 beans that aerate soil.
It feels rewarding in sowing something that won’t stay forever – on the surface, anyway.
