When I set about training to be a food grower, I didn’t expect to find myself as enamoured with soil and compost as I am now. But it turns out that becoming a plant lover is the first step on the path to soil and compost evangelism.
“Grow the soil and the plants grow themselves” is a wise adage I’ve heard many times, and it remains the principle at the heart of my growing practice – especially as I’m fortunate enough to have a space where I can grow plants directly in the earth. (A column about growing in containers is forthcoming, for those who don’t have access to outdoor space.)
The logic behind mulching the soil with compost is solid and sensible. By placing a thick layer of compost (3cm or more, ideally) on top of the earth, you are mimicking the way soil is formed, and nourished, in the natural world. Leaves and plant matter decompose and are incorporated into the earth by the microorganisms that make up the soil life. This process improves the soil structure, water retention and fertility. So there is really no need to simultaneously damage your soil, your soil life – and perhaps your back, too – with a lot of destructive digging.
I usually mulch my beds in early April, during the natural moment of transition in my growing year – when new crops are about to replace the old. It feels like the right time to give my veg beds a nutrient-rich offering. It’s also when the soil tends to be moist and is warming up, which are the conditions I want under a layer of mulch (after I’ve evicted certain perennial weeds such as couch grass and bramble). Depending on where you live, the ideal moment to mulch may be around now or – if there’s still a chance of your ground freezing solid on a cold night – in a few weeks’ time. If you don’t do it in spring, late autumn – before the frost returns – is also a good time for an annual mulch.
Into this welcoming layer of compost go a few crops that are happy to be sown in situ – including peas and carrots. I like the mangetout pea ‘Shiraz’, for its purple pods, and ‘Paris Market’ carrots, which grow chubby and stout so don’t need to burrow far into our heavy soil. Holly cuttings or spent teasels laid over your beds help keep nosy mice and hungry beaks away from your precious seeds.
In a relatively short space of time, I’ve seen a steady improvement in the quality of the earth in my veg patch. Our clay soil is more amenable, the soil life is thriving and the plants grow happily. The main issue I have now is that all the earthworms and other organisms have enticed the neighbourhood mole, who has little respect for my commitment to no-dig!
