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. An architect friend joked, “Are you sure that’s Lucozade?” giving me a new perspective.
All this is to say, the garden is a bit of a mess. But there’s a lot to be said for negligence; coming back from a trip, I spotted a sunflower growing in the back corner.
Now, however, some urgent tidying is underway. Being six months pregnant, I’ve hired a professional gardener to tackle troublesome weeds like a prickly weed and robinia saplings from the neighbour’s tree, but keeping desirable plants. Then, in the newly cleared patches, I’ll be sowing green manure.
Cover crops act like heroes when it comes to improving soil health.
My gardening friend Claire has written about green manure, as they are essential in crop rotation for edible gardens. However, the only things I’m harvesting from my garden right now are a few scrumped apples and some hardy herbs.
My ambitions for the garden are modest and consistent – and improving the soil is top of the list. 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.
Green manure are like superheroes for your garden’s foundation. Bare soil invites weeds, which is why weeds appear. But by sowing vigorous crops, you can suppress weeds, attract pollinators, host pest-eating creatures, and fix nitrogen.
Green manure plants may not look exciting – though some, like lupins ‘Blue Sonet’ and a flowering legume, have lovely blooms – but their role is to grow vigorously rather than look decorative. Once established, you can dig them into the soil, chop them for mulch, or leave them on the surface for earthworms to incorporate. The real magic happens below the surface.
Now is the ideal time for sowing these overwintering crops. My selection includes forage rye, which breaks up heavy earth, Italian ryegrass, vetch, and field beans.
There’s satisfaction in sowing something knowing it’s temporary – on the surface, anyway.
