I recently found a partially finished bottle of Lucozade placed 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.
This week, though, some necessary firefighting is underway. As I’m expecting a baby, I’ve hired a professional gardener to tackle troublesome weeds like a prickly weed and young tree shoots from the neighbour’s tree, but keeping desirable plants. Then, in the open patches, I’ll be sowing green manure.
Green manure are superheroes when it comes to improving soil health.
My gardening friend Claire has written about cover crops, as they are essential in crop rotation for edible gardens. However, the only things I’m picking from my garden right now are a few foraged apples and some hardy herbs.
My garden goals are simple and steady – 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.
Green manure work wonders 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.
Green manure plants may not look exciting – though some, like certain lupin varieties and bird’s foot trefoil, have lovely blooms – but their purpose is to thrive rather than be admired. After they’ve grown, you can dig them into the soil, chop them for mulch, or let them decompose for earthworms to pull down. The real magic happens below the surface.
Autumn is perfect for sowing these cold-season plants. I’ve chosen rye grass, great for clay soil, a nitrogen-lifter, vetch, and field beans.
It feels rewarding in sowing something that won’t stay forever – on the surface, anyway.
