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.
All this is to say, 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 urgent tidying is underway. Being six months pregnant, I’ve hired a local gardener to tackle troublesome weeds like green alkanet and robinia saplings from the neighbour’s tree, but keeping desirable plants. Then, in the newly cleared patches, I’ll be sowing cover crops.
Cover crops act like heroes when it comes to boosting soil quality.
My gardening friend Claire has written about 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 hardy herbs.
My ambitions for the garden are modest and consistent – and improving the soil is my main priority. For those wondering, the scaffolding is for roof repairs, and the fences are still wobbly, but the neighbours agree 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, attract pollinators, host pest-eating creatures, and enrich the soil with nutrients.
Cover crops aren’t always showy – though some, like certain lupin varieties and bird’s foot trefoil, have lovely blooms – but their purpose is to grow vigorously rather than look decorative. After they’ve grown, you can turn them under, chop them for mulch, or let them decompose for earthworms to pull down. Their work happens underground.
Now is the ideal time for sowing these overwintering crops. My selection includes rye grass, which breaks up heavy earth, a nitrogen-lifter, vetch, and beans that aerate soil.
It feels rewarding in sowing something knowing it’s temporary – on the surface, anyway.
