Just the other day, I discovered a partially finished bottle of Lucozade left behind in the euphorbia trough by one of the scaffolders. An architect friend joked, “Are you sure that’s Lucozade?” which made me see it differently.
In short, the garden is in disarray. Sometimes neglect has its perks; coming back from a trip, I spotted a sunflower sprouting in the back corner.
Now, however, some urgent tidying is underway. Being six months pregnant, I’ve enlisted a professional 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 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 previously discussed green manure, as they play a key role in seasonal planting for edible gardens. However, the only things I’m harvesting from my garden right now are a few foraged apples and some hardy herbs.
My garden goals are modest and consistent – and improving the soil is my main priority. For those wondering, the scaffold is for roof repairs, and the garden boundaries are yet to be fixed, but the neighbours are on board with replacing them.
Cover crops are like superheroes for your garden’s foundation. Bare soil invites weeds, which is why unwanted plants pop up. Yet by sowing vigorous crops, you can control weeds, bring in bees, shelter beneficial insects, and fix nitrogen.
Cover crops aren’t always showy – though some, like lupins ‘Blue Sonet’ and bird’s foot trefoil, have pretty flowers – but their purpose is to thrive rather than be admired. After they’ve grown, you can turn them under, cut them for compost, or let them decompose for worms to incorporate. Their work happens underground.
Autumn is perfect for sowing these overwintering crops. I’ve chosen rye grass, great for clay soil, a nitrogen-lifter, vetch, and beans that aerate soil.
There’s satisfaction in sowing something that won’t stay forever – on the surface, anyway.
