Just the other day, I discovered a half-empty bottle of Lucozade left behind in the euphorbia trough by one of the scaffolders. A visiting architect commented, “Are you sure that’s Lucozade?” which made me see it differently.
All this is to say, 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 sprouting in the back corner.
This week, though, some necessary firefighting is underway. As I’m expecting a baby, I’ve hired a local gardener to remove troublesome weeds like a prickly weed and robinia saplings 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 boosting soil quality.
My gardening friend Claire has previously discussed cover crops, as they are essential in crop rotation for edible gardens. But, the only things I’m picking from my garden right now are a few scrumped apples and some hardy herbs.
My ambitions for the garden are modest and consistent – and enhancing soil health is my main priority. To update concerned readers, the scaffolding is for roof repairs, and the fences are still wobbly, but the neighbours agree with the plan.
Green manure are like superheroes for your garden’s foundation. Soil likes to be covered, which is why unwanted plants pop up. Yet by sowing vigorous crops, you can suppress weeds, attract pollinators, shelter beneficial insects, and fix nitrogen.
Green manure plants may not look exciting – though some, like certain lupin varieties and a flowering legume, have pretty flowers – but their role is to grow vigorously rather than look decorative. After they’ve grown, you can dig them into the soil, cut them for compost, or let them decompose for earthworms to pull down. The real magic happens below the surface.
Now is the ideal time for sowing these cold-season plants. I’ve chosen rye grass, great for clay soil, a nitrogen-lifter, a weed-suppressor, and field beans.
It feels rewarding in sowing something knowing it’s temporary – on the surface, anyway.
