Make a Small Balcony Feel Like a Garden

A balcony of two or three square metres is not a compromise. Handled with a bit of thought, it becomes the most-used room in the flat between April and October — and a perfectly good spot for a mug of tea in February, if you've planned for it. The trick is to stop thinking about floor space and start thinking about walls, height and scent.

Read the site before you buy a single pot

Balconies are their own microclimate, and no two behave the same way. Before you spend a penny, watch yours for a week. A south- or west-facing balcony will bake by mid-afternoon and dry out alarmingly fast, while a north-facing one stays cool and shaded — better suited to ferns, hostas and leafy salads than to lavender.

Then think about wind. A balcony two floors up can funnel a breeze into something that snaps stems and shreds foliage. Watch where the gusts hit and put your tallest plants in the sheltered corner. If the whole space is exposed, a trellis panel fixed to the wall or a roll of bamboo screening tied to the railing will knock back the worst of it — and give climbers something to hold on to.

Finally, note what's above your head. A balcony tucked under another one rarely catches rain, so plants at the outer edge depend entirely on your watering can. Self-watering troughs with a built-in reservoir will carry you through a busy week far more comfortably.

Grow upwards with vertical planters

On a balcony, the wall is your allotment. A single metre of vertical space holds more greenery than the floor ever could, and keeps pots out from under your feet.

• Wall-mounted troughs. Fix rigid, frost-proof troughs into masonry with proper plugs and screws, not adhesive hooks. Space them 40–50cm apart so plants have room to spill.
• Tiered shelving. A narrow three-tier slatted unit against the wall holds a dozen small pots and lets light reach every level.
• Railings. Clip-on baskets work, but check the weight and use lighter compost. Trailing ivy, nasturtium and bacopa soften the hard line of the rail.

Whatever you hang, use a peat-free compost mixed with water-retaining granules and top each pot with a centimetre of gravel. It slows evaporation, keeps the surface tidy and stops compost splashing onto the balcony below in a downpour. Lavender, rosemary, thyme, salvias and hebes all cope well with the sharp drainage and exposure.

Furniture that folds, stacks and disappears

The biggest mistake on a small balcony is buying furniture that claims a permanent square metre of it. Choose pieces that fold flat against the wall or nest on top of each other.

• A 60cm bistro table seats two and folds away in seconds.
• Folding aluminium or acacia chairs are light enough to bring indoors when the weather turns.
• A drop-leaf table fixed to the wall gives you a proper surface for breakfast, then folds down to nothing.
• A lidded storage bench does double duty: seating, and a home for cushions, secateurs and a bag of compost.

Keep the floor as clear as you reasonably can. An outdoor rug in a weatherproof fibre is worth the money too — it makes the space feel like a room rather than a ledge.

Scented herbs at arm's reach

Scent is what turns a balcony from a display into somewhere you want to linger, and herbs do it better than almost anything else. Group them beside your seat so that brushing past releases their oils.

Thyme, rosemary, oregano and sage all relish the full sun and sharp drainage a balcony provides — they hate being fussed over, and prefer gritty compost with a handful of horticultural grit stirred through. Keep mint in its own pot, always, or it will colonise everything else. Basil is a summer visitor only; treat it as an annual and pick it hard.

A few sprigs of thyme or mint in hot water make a decent morning drink, and there's something quietly civilising about stepping out in dressing gown and slippers to snip breakfast from a pot you grew yourself. For evening scent, add night-scented stock or a jasmine against the wall.

Light, warmth and the morning-coffee ritual

The difference between a balcony you use and one you admire from indoors is usually comfort. Warm-white solar fairy lights wound through a trellis cost very little and buy you another two hours of usable evening. A lantern with a real candle adds warmth without glare.

Keep a lidded box outside with a folded blanket, so a cool morning doesn't send you straight back in. A tray that lives on the shelf with two mugs, a small cafetière and a jar of coffee makes the whole ritual effortless — you're not ferrying everything out and back each time. If you have a socket or a solar panel, a small water feature adds sound and masks traffic. Even a shallow bowl of water will do, and the birds will find it.

A year of small jobs

Small spaces need little and often rather than grand gestures. A rough rhythm to work to:

• Spring: Refresh the top 5cm of compost in every pot, sow a cut-and-come-again salad, and move tender plants out once the frost risk has passed.
• Summer: Water daily in hot spells, deadhead to keep flowers coming, and feed fortnightly with a liquid feed.
• Autumn: Plant tulip and narcissus bulbs in pots for spring, and clear fallen leaves before they smother small plants.
• Winter: Wrap tender pots in fleece, stand them on feet so they don't sit in freezing water, and check saucers aren't holding standing rain.

Do that much and your balcony will look after itself for most of the year. The rest is simply sitting in it — coffee in hand, feet on the railing, watching the street go by from a small green place that is entirely yours.