This summer, I decided not to cut the grass in my backyard. I’ve long argued for letting a little more wildness into our gardens, but the cult of the lawn is a powerful cultural force and for years I, like most of us, have conformed and kept the back lawn mown.
Ideally, I’d some day like to have a xeriscaped garden without any lawn at all, but removing turf grass is back-breaking work and I’ve only nibbled away at my lawn, expanding beds and creating a few new ones.
So this year, my children suggested that they would enjoy playing in the backyard more if it was a bit more wild and varied. I have been traveling and working a lot. And I am more worried about the state of the nation than what my neighbors might think. And so we haven’t mown.
I have continued to water a bit. I live in a High Desert climate and not watering at all is tough to pull off if you like anything living at all around you.
So far, the grass is about two and a half feet tall. I was interested to find that we have at least three and probably five grass species in the yard. Once they flower and go to seed, their differences are much more obvious.
Insect abundance has increased. Earwigs were always common but have exploded. Leaf hoppers, previously unnoticeable, now erupt in little clouds as one moves through the grass. There are definitely more butterflies. Neighborhood cats delight in stalking through our miniature veldt, like tortoiseshell lions.
Some plants have jumped their beds and joined the grass. I have lemon verbena and volunteer tree seedlings throughout the lawn. Something purple that I don’t remember planting anywhere has bloomed.
The children say they prefer the lawn as a tallgrass prairie because it is softer and cooler in the summer heat. The long grass retains moisture better and casts some shade. They prefer the look of the un-mown lawn. “It looks a lot like a jungle,” the eight year old reports. “I like playing explorer. It is pretty fun. And also, it is a pretty nice space to make a fairy house. Also it is fun to see what new plants pop up.” The six-year-old says he likes the feel of it on his feet.
For now, the plan is to continue the experiment. I have used a weed-whacker to excavate the sprinkler heads when they became completely covered with vegetation. And I’ve pulled a few weeds that were thorny or prickly to the touch to keep the yard fun for the kids. I will probably cut down most of the tree seedlings before they become full-grown trees, though I do feel a temptation to let the yard turn into a mysterious wood. I also daydream about burning parts of it like the real prairie restorationists do, though I doubt the city would let me try it.
It can sometimes feel like there’s less wildness in the world with each passing year. The Amazon is felled; the Outback and the Gobi desert are mined; the Arctic becomes a shipping lane. (Of course, these places are really more human-nature co-creations than “wildernesses” in the western sense, but they aren’t soy fields or parking lots.) My backyard certainly can’t undo or make up for the development of the world’s most beautiful and diverse landscapes. But it can allow my kids to explore a little tyke-sized wilderness every day, escorted by a entourage of leafhoppers and butterflies.
I love this. When we killed off the copious grasslands of our acre from neglect, we decided to “pretty up” the portion next to the house. The landscaper’s crew designed a beautiful garden and DG walkways. A carpenter surrounded our private Eden with a wooden fence, unvarnished against the elements. The next spring, I planted Mexican primroses and the landscaper freaked. “Those will take over your whole yard.” I could hear his heart break. Indeed, Mexico has repatriated my garden and I love it. A dying wisteria came back to life with a bit of water. Butterflies flutter through daily. Birds raise their babies in the birdhouses. And my cat, rescued from five years in an apartment, patrols his glorious territory like a pasha. The landscaper’s garden plantings thrive among my “selective weedings” and I gaze on it with pride and contentment from the shaded garden swing.
No way to let my little patch grow over, it’s in front of the house, but I decided this year to mow less and let the grass be taller and wilder. It looks healthier and it seems there are more bugs and birds. We like it.
We’ve made gardens all around our house for hummingbirds, dragonflies, butterflies, snakes, etc. But we’ve kept our back-40 unmowed, and I can see at least 3 varieties of grass, plus alder, willow, cattails, and more. This year we had a painted turtle come and lay her eggs in the back-40, a mother grouse with her chick wandering around, a Canada goose couple and their two chicks, and an endless array of birds and deer. No use mowing if you don’t have to.
I had a 3 acre lot that I stopped mowing. Unlike you tho I was encouraged by the new trees. Mostly tho, it was just a time saver, took about 8 hours every two weeks to keep it mowed.
Kudos to you all! I am a (retired) landscape architect whose love is the prairie. May I make a tiny suggestion? I live in the midwest so to leave lawn unmowed is to get non-native grasses. Yes, this supports more life, but native insects like native plants; insects are what birds feed their babies. I refer you to Doug Tallamy’s excellent book, “Bringing Nature Home.” Onward and upward!