Even in our famously damp climate, most of us reach for the tap when we water. Yet a hosepipe can shift around 500 litres an hour, and a dry spell in July will empty a 200-litre water butt faster than you'd think. If you're on a meter, that's money going on the beds. Harvesting rain instead cuts your mains use, and the water you collect is genuinely better for plants: soft, chlorine-free and slightly acidic, which suits camellias, rhododendrons, blueberries and ferns far more than tap water does.
There's a second benefit that matters on small plots. Slowing down the rain that hits your roof reduces the surge into the drains during heavy summer downpours, which is exactly when localised flooding tends to happen. A butt, a rain garden and a bit of permeable paving all work together here, and they make a garden feel calmer and more considered too.
The maths is friendlier than it looks. Roughly 1 mm of rain on 1 m² of roof gives you 1 litre, and you can knock off about 10–15% for splashing, evaporation and the first flush you'll want to divert away.
Check which downpipe serves the largest, cleanest roof — normally the main house rather than a garage with a felt or bitumen covering that sheds grit for years. Then size your tank to your garden, not your ambition: better to have 300 litres you actually use than 2,000 litres stagnating at the bottom of the plot.
In a courtyard or a narrow terrace garden, the tank is a design problem before it's a plumbing one. Slimline butts of 100–200 litres will slot against a wall or fence and can be clad in timber battens to read as part of the boundary. Others are shaped as planters, benches or tall "water wall" units, and a few are designed to sit under a raised deck, though you'll need a pump to get the water out and a hatch for maintenance.
Buried tanks of 1,000–3,000 litres give you capacity with nothing on show, and the water stays cool and algae-free. They cost more, need excavation and a pumped outlet, and you must plan where the overflow goes — a soakaway or rain garden, never your neighbour's patio. Wherever you put it:
Roof water arrives carrying grit, moss, bird droppings and the odd leaf, and if you let that settle in the tank you'll get smelly water and clogged drippers. A few cheap measures make a real difference:
Harvested rainwater isn't for drinking, cooking or hand-washing, and if you ever top the tank up from the mains you'll need proper backflow protection with an air gap. For garden use, none of that is complicated — but it's worth getting right.
Gravity is the quiet limitation of most water butts. Every metre of head gives you about 0.1 bar, so a butt standing on a 60 cm plinth delivers a gentle glug through a short hose and not much more. That's fine for filling a watering can.
If you want a drip line or a soaker hose, add a small submersible or inline pump capable of 0.5–1.5 bar. Pair it with a pressure reducer and a 120–200 micron filter so grit doesn't block the emitters, and run the lines under a mulch where they won't be seen. Gravity-fed drip systems are possible, but they need larger pipework and careful levelling. For raised beds, wicking beds and self-watering planters, a simple tap and a can is often the most elegant answer of all.
Rainwater harvesting rewards a little routine. Clear gutters and check diverters in autumn, and give the tank a clean each spring — drain it down, scoop out the silt, rinse and refit the mesh. In winter, leave headspace or fit a floating ice guard so expanding water doesn't crack the tank, and bring in or drain any exposed pump and hose before the first hard frost.
One last note for dry spells: restrictions vary, and some water companies limit hosepipe use even when the water is harvested. A watering can is always safe, and it's worth a quick check with your supplier before you rig up a pumped irrigation line in July.