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?” 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; coming back from a trip, I spotted a sunflower growing in the back corner.
This week, though, some urgent tidying is underway. As I’m expecting a baby, I’ve enlisted a local gardener to remove troublesome weeds like a prickly weed and robinia saplings from the neighbour’s tree, but keeping desirable plants. Next, in the open patches, I’ll be sowing cover crops.
Cover crops act like heroes when it comes to improving soil health.
A fellow garden writer has previously discussed cover crops, as they are essential in crop rotation for edible gardens. But, the only things I’m harvesting from my garden right now are a few foraged apples and some hardy herbs.
My ambitions for the garden are simple and steady – and improving the soil is my main priority. 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.
Cover crops are like superheroes for soil health. Bare soil invites weeds, which is why weeds appear. Yet by sowing vigorous crops, you can suppress weeds, bring in bees, host pest-eating creatures, and fix nitrogen.
Cover crops aren’t always showy – though some, like certain lupin varieties and a flowering legume, have lovely blooms – but their role is to thrive rather than look decorative. After they’ve grown, you can dig them into the soil, chop them for mulch, or leave them on the surface for worms to incorporate. Their work happens below the surface.
Autumn is perfect for sowing these cold-season plants. I’ve chosen rye grass, which breaks up heavy earth, a nitrogen-lifter, vetch, and field beans.
There’s satisfaction in sowing something that won’t stay forever – on the surface, anyway.
