The Unkempt Lawn

“Lawns can’t look untidy.”  “Grass kept at 2 ½-3 inches.”  “No weeds.”  “Flower beds are restricted to the approved palate of plants.” Whenever I hear about Homeowners Associations and their draconian lawn rules, I gaze upon my riotous jungle of natives with satisfaction. 

When we moved here, the plan was to plant only natives, and for the most part we’ve kept to that.  After four years, the greenery is firmly established.

Early in the wilding process, the mailman cheerfully suggested I cut down a few of my white oaks so when I sod the lawn the grass would stand a better chance.  The trees are still here and the clumps of grass are up to my belt; the fella hasn’t said anything more.

At the moment, the spiderworts are fading in and out, the bergamots and cardinal flowers are in full bloom, and the mountain mints are just starting to flower.  Blue mistflowers are shy; a couple blooms are hesitantly peeking out while their sisters watch with trepidation.  But all are appreciated by the bumblebees, butterflies, and other pollinators that are bellying up to the bar as it were. 

And the grasses – bluestems and broom sedges, Indiangrass and the others – are digging their fibrous roots into the clay subsoil, so that with luck we will start to build soil where the builders scraped all the good earth away. Rabbits and even a fawn have been using lush vegetation along the driveway as cover.

I don’t leave the yard plants completely to their own devices, though.  Blackberries, dog fennel, and the all-devouring muscadine get yanked when I find them.  The mountain mint would take over the yard if I let it, so that gets trimmed back in the autumn. For the most part, though, I let the plants do their unruly thing, and watch lizards, dragonflies, butterflies and rabbits do theirs.

Further Reading:

Why We Have Lawns