I recently found a partially finished bottle of Lucozade left behind in the euphorbia trough by one of the scaffolders. An architect friend commented, “Are you sure that’s Lucozade?” giving me a new perspective.
All this is to say, the garden is in disarray. Sometimes neglect has its perks; after returning from holiday, I spotted a sunflower sprouting in the back corner.
Now, however, some necessary firefighting is underway. As I’m expecting a baby, I’ve hired a local gardener to remove invasive plants like green alkanet and robinia saplings from the neighbour’s tree, while leaving the good stuff. Next, in the open patches, I’ll be sowing cover crops.
Cover crops act like heroes when it comes to boosting soil quality.
A fellow garden writer has previously discussed cover crops, as they play a key role in crop rotation for vegetable plots. However, the only things I’m harvesting from my garden right now are a few foraged apples and some woody herbs.
My ambitions for the garden 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 still wobbly, but the neighbours agree with replacing them.
Cover crops work wonders for soil health. Bare soil invites weeds, which is why unwanted plants pop up. Yet by sowing vigorous crops, you can control weeds, bring in bees, 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 lovely blooms – but their role is to thrive rather than be admired. Once established, you can dig them into the soil, chop them for mulch, or let them decompose for worms to incorporate. Their work happens underground.
Autumn is perfect for sowing these overwintering crops. I’ve chosen forage rye, which breaks up heavy earth, a nitrogen-lifter, vetch, and field beans.
It feels rewarding in planting seeds knowing it’s temporary – on the surface, anyway.
