the joy of mulch

The beds and borders at work have been spread with a wonderful crumbly dark brown mulch.  I looked at it enviously and wondered where they got it from and if I could get some.  But there isn't anywhere convenient to dump a load of mulch, and I don't want a mulch-based repetition of the dumpy bags of gravel experience.  I think I'll just have to make do with what we can make at home.

I believe firmly in the benefits of mulch.  Years ago, when the shrubs were all newly planted and the spaces between them seemed practically endless, I used chopped bark to try and retain soil moisture and suppress weeds.  I don't use it nowadays.  As it rots down it temporarily robs the soil of nitrogen, and our soil is infertile enough already, and the visual effect is a bit municipal.  Composted mulch doesn't stop weeds, on the contrary it provides a lovely seed-bed for them, but it is easy work to pull the seedlings out, and the soil-conditioning effect makes most plants grow faster.  From late winter through to late spring my ambition is to get the soil covered by the leaves of my plants as quickly as possible, then they will largely crowd out weed seedlings by themselves (perennial weeds are another story).

I don't dig organic material in very much, leaving the worms and soil organisms to do it, unless I'm renovating an area.  I don't enjoy digging, it doesn't do my back any good, and I don't believe it does the soil any good either.  Some experts would vehemently disagree with me, so I prefer to confirm my prejudices by listening to the experts who agree, like Charles Dowding (organic vegetable producer and no-dig gardening guru).  Soil is full of networks of fungi that live in co-operation with green plants, called micorrhizae, which have received a fair bit of media cover in recent years.  Digging damages them.  Plus there are worms and beetles and lurking toads that aren't going to be improved by being chopped in half with a spade or speared with a fork.  I spread compost on the surface, as much as I can get my hands on (never enough) and over time it is miraculously incorporated.  Organic material helps sandy soil retain moisture, and helps clay particles clump together so improving drainage.  It is the stuff of life.

Everything that is not full of weed seeds or pernicious roots goes on the compost heap, unless it is woody enough to make wood chippings or be burnt.  Even evergreen hedge clippings from the Eleagnus x ebbingei compost pretty well if put through the shredder and mixed with grass cuttings.  A mixture of woody and green, that is the secret.  Grass clippings by themselves go slimy, but they are great for activating other prunings.  The litter from the chicken house and run go on to the heap, as do all vegetable peelings.  And the brown paper bags that the rolls from the farm shop come in, and old cotton dishcloths.  I began to suspect I was getting slightly unbalanced on the subject of compost when I found myself tut-tutting that my colleagues were throwing away the banana skins from their lunch boxes, rather than taking them home to compost.  Asking other people for their old banana skins would be a step too far.  The bins stand in a row, and I do periodically turn the contents from one bin to the next, to mix and aerate it.  I do this a little gingerly in case the bins are occupied.  Last year I found some baby grass snakes in there.  No rats so far, thank goodness.