I just removed a half-filled bottle of Lucozade from the euphorbia trough. It was left there by one of the scaffolders. “Are you sure that’s Lucozade?” ventured a visiting architect, which made me see the energy drink in a new light.
All of which is to say: the garden is a mess. But there’s a lot to be said for negligence; I returned from holiday to find a sunflower had appeared in the back corner.
This week, though, sees some necessary firefighting. I’m six months pregnant and horribly overwhelmed, so I’ve enlisted the help of a local gardener to tackle the more pernicious intruders (such as green alkanet, which leaves my ankles feeling bitten whenever I hang out the washing, and some of the many robinia saplings that have appeared from the neighbour’s great big, beautiful tree) while leaving the good stuff behind. Then, in the patches that open up, I’ll be sowing green manure.
My beloved column companion Claire has addressed the matter of green manure in these pages before, because they play an important part in the broader crop rotation of a working edibles plot. But the only thing I’m eating from the garden at the moment is a scrumped apple or two and some woody herbs.
My ambitions for the garden are simple and steady – and improving the soil is top of the list. (And an update for those kind readers who are concerned I’m frittering away the roof fund on fencing: the scaffolding is for the roof, and the fences remain waving perilously in the wind. The neighbours are on board with us replacing them.)
Green manure issuperheroes when it comes to improving soil health. Ground likes to be covered – that’s why “weeds” turn up. But you can help defeat weeds, bring in biodiversity through pollinators, offer shelter to other pest-eating creatures and fix and hold nitrogen in your soil by sowing crops that grow just as vigorously as weeds.
Green manure plants may not look that interesting – although some, such as lupins ‘Blue Sonet’ (Lupinus angustifolius) and bird’s foot trefoil, have lovely flowers – but the point is for them to grow, rather than be admired. Once they have, you either dig them into your soil, cut them down for compost or leave them on the surface for the worms to pull down. Their work is done beneath the ground.
Now is the time for sowing these overwintering crops. I’ve gone for forage rye, which is particularly good on clay soil, Italian ryegrass to lift nitrates, vetch to suppress weeds and fix nitrogen, and field beans, the roots of which make light of heavy soils.
It feels good to sow something in the garden, and even better knowing that it won’t be there permanently – above ground, at least.
