"The variety of all things forms a pleasure." —Euripides
Ginny Neil
On our farm we raise cows and sheep, but My Own Farmer will tell you that the most important thing we raise is grass. Acres and acres and acres of grass. Some of it is in pasture, and the cows spend most of their time in the summer and early fall there. This leaves the meadows to grow long and lush until their once- or-twice-a-year mowing for hay. So, the grass really is greener on the other side of the fence.
Last June, the battery on the electric fence dividing our hay meadow from our pasture died. Cows are opportunists. By the time we noticed the breach, the whole herd was enjoying a fresh green meal. I headed across the meadow to chase them back to pasture, and soon I was walking through grass up to my armpits. As I pushed my way through the tangled mess, I had time to notice things. Things like the two open cups of blackbird nests woven around woody Joe Pye weed stems. Things like swallows swooping above my head, mouths wide open, as they pursued the bugs disturbed by my progress.
Ginny Neil
I saw milkweed plants with just-hatched monarch caterpillars eating their way to wings. I surprised bees of one kind or another foraging on yarrow, daisies, evening primrose and moth mullein. I counted four varieties of grass and two kinds of clover. The meadow was buzzing and humming and beating with far more life than just those ornery cows.
There is a new movement in America called “unlawning.” Unlawning recognizes that our carpets of grass are sterile environments and that they have a huge negative ecological impact not only on the life they could support but on our air and water quality. Watering lawns in America uses 30 to 60 percent of urban freshwater. If homeowners apply pesticides and fertilizers improperly, the extra washes off into gutters which flow into the host of rivers, streams and bays that are fed by our mountain watersheds.
It has been estimated that mowing the 40 million acres of lawn in the United States each year produce 16 billion pounds of CO². A gas-powered mower running for one hour can produce 11 times more emissions than a new car running for the same amount of time. I wince when I drive past homes surrounded by acres and acres of mowed lawn. Some of it could be re-wilded and paths mowed through so the homeowners could enjoy and support a rich habitat.
Ginny Neil
Even small lawns can benefit from some unlawning. This spring I smothered a strip of grass near my front fence. The turf under the cardboard died, and this fall I sowed a wildflower mix similar to what I see growing in the meadow beyond. I am committed to bringing some small sections of my yard into agreement with nature rather than trying to tame it.
As I researched other ways to replace a lawn that needs to be mowed, I was delighted to see that wild strawberries are a great way to grow a low maintenance green patch. Violets are another delightful replacement for grass, as is white clover. Once established, all three require minimal work. Rather than mowing and watering my new areas of unlawn, I will be pruning to limit growth, trampling to keep it lower and weeding whenever I spot invasive plants. And possibly, I will be snacking on strawberries as I work.
If you are interested in unlawning to help reduce your carbon and water footprint, or provide a refuge for all the species that are being squeezed out of their native habitats, there are plenty of resources available on the web to get you started. Just research the terms “unlawning,” or “rethinking your lawn,” or “rewilding your lawn.” I encourage you to invite nature in, even if it is just on the edges.
Unlike me, you won’t have to chase cows through a tangled mess to enjoy it.
The story above first appeared in our September / October 2024 issue. For more like it subscribe today or log in with your active BRC+ Membership. Thank you for your support!