Why a small border can do a great deal of good

Britain's gardens cover more ground than all our nature reserves put together, and the average plot is getting smaller. That is not a reason to give up on wildlife. A border just a metre deep and four metres long, planted thoughtfully, can feed a surprising number of bees, shelter a hedgehog and give the birds somewhere to bathe. The trick is to make it look deliberate. A wildlife border should read as a well-considered piece of planting, not an abandoned corner, and with a little structure and a sharp edge it will sit happily beside a cottage garden path or a clipped hedge.

Think of it as three things in one: food, water and shelter. Get those right and the creatures will find you, even in a town centre.

Start with the bones of the border

Before you buy a single plant, decide on the shape. If space allows, widen the border to at least 1.2 metres, because a deep border lets you layer plants from low front to tall back, and that layering is what creates habitat. Where you cannot widen it, go taller instead and use the vertical space with climbers and stakes.

• Sun matters most. Most nectar-rich flowers need six hours or more. Put your sunniest stretch of border to work and keep the shady end for foliage, ferns and spring bulbs.
• Define the front edge. A shallow trench cut with a half-moon spade, a strip of gravel, or a run of reclaimed brick tells the eye this is a garden, not a neglect. That single line does more for tidiness than any amount of weeding.
• Improve the soil modestly. Most wildflowers prefer lean ground. Fork in a little garden compost but skip the rich manure, which encourages floppy growth and fewer flowers.

Native flowers that earn their place

You do not need a meadow. You need a succession of flowers from February to November, so something is always open. Aim for at least three plants in flower in any month.

• Early: primrose, lungwort and comfrey. These are the lifelines for queen bumblebees emerging from hibernation in March.
• Early summer: foxgloves, ox-eye daisy and wild marjoram. The marjoram is a magnet for small bees and hoverflies and smells wonderful on a warm evening.
• Midsummer: field scabious, knapweed and viper's bugloss. All three are long-flowering and tolerate dry, sunny spots.
• Late: teasel, honesty and asters. Leave the seed heads standing through winter — goldfinches will strip the teasel and the hollow stems make ready-made hibernation chambers for insects.

Single, open flowers are what you want. Doubles and heavily bred varieties often have little or no nectar, however pretty they look in the catalogue. Mix in a few cottage garden favourites such as hardy geraniums, catmint and hellebores and the border will look generous rather than worthy.

A shallow dish of water

Water is the single most valuable addition you can make, and it need not be a pond. An old glazed sink, a stone trough or a sturdy washing-up bowl sunk to its rim will do. Place it where you can see it from the kitchen window, in sun for at least part of the day.

• Keep it shallow. Ten to fifteen centimetres is plenty. Deep water is a hazard for hedgehogs and small birds.
• Always provide a ramp. A sloping stone, a piece of weathered brick or a short plank of untreated timber lets frogs, beetles and thirsty hedgehogs climb out. Without one, the water becomes a trap.
• Plant lightly. A small oxygenator and one or two marginal plants are enough. Avoid fish, which eat everything else.
• Top it up in dry spells with rainwater from a butt rather than tap water, and clear fallen leaves in autumn.

Birds will use it constantly for bathing and drinking, and damselflies will find it within a season or two.

Log piles, dead hedges and bare ground

Habitat is where wildlife actually lives, and it is usually the missing piece. Tuck a log pile into the shadiest corner behind the planting, where it will not offend anyone. Stack a few lengths of untreated timber, add some smaller branches and leave it alone. Solitary bees will nest in the sunny side if you drill a few holes of varying diameter into a cut log and face it south.

A short dead hedge — hazel or birch stems woven between upright stakes — makes a smart, rustic boundary and provides the same cover as a log pile. Add a pile of fallen leaves behind it in October and you have hedgehog hibernation quarters. And do leave a small patch of bare, undisturbed soil. Ground-nesting bees and many beetles need it, and a shallow sandy scrape is far more useful than another square metre of gravel.

Keeping it looking cared for

The secret to a wildlife border that pleases the eye is a firm hand at the edges and a light one in the middle. Keep the front line crisp, mow or clip the path beside it regularly, and mulch any gaps with garden compost so bare soil does not read as neglect.

Then resist the urge to cut everything down in October. Leave seed heads and stems standing until late February, when the worst of the weather has passed, and cut them in stages rather than all at once so something is always in cover. Divide clumps every few years to keep them flowering well, and pull the occasional weed before it seeds. Do that, and your small border will be busier than a much larger garden left to its own devices — and every bit as handsome.