Why I’m Turning My Lawn into a Wild Garden
And why you should, too
“See, I told you,” came a voice from outside my window. “Have you ever seen such an ugly yard?”
It was July 2019 and I was sitting on my couch one evening, working on my novel. Through the open window, I heard this, and immediately looked up, in shock. Who was calling my yard ugly?
I saw a couple standing just at the end of the walkway leading to my door. The woman was gesticulating wildly to the guy I presumed was her husband, who looked decidedly bored.
“She keeps ripping up the grass to put in these hideous plants, and then she lets them die. It makes the whole neighborhood look bad.”
She was pointing at my ninebark shrub when she mentioned the “hideous, dead plants.” Ninebark is reddish-brown all year round. Mine was very much alive and well, though I knew she assumed it was dead because it wasn’t green.
On my walk the next morning, I found myself extra observant as I walked by each house. I wondered which one she lived in. Not that it would matter — they all looked exactly the same. A square of lawn, unnaturally green in our unrelenting desert sun, a small tree, and a few grasses, lilies, or boxwoods in a border surrounded with bark chips.
You know what? I find that ugly. I don’t see any beauty in these overly-fed lawns and cookie-cutter landscaping. They’re boring. And unnaturally quiet.
That’s not the kind of yard I want.
Lawns suck
I love a little grass in the right places. A nice park, for instance, where kids can play soccer and dogs can fetch their toys. If you have kids and/or dogs, I can understand that a lawn might be important.
But I have neither.
As a single woman who lives alone, guess the chore that I hate more than anything. Did you guess mowing the lawn? If so, you’re right.
The last thing I want to do with my time is mow lawn. Where’s the payoff?
I’d rather spend that time weeding in the garden because in the end, I’ll get so much food back, I’ll have to give some of it away.
