This first appeared in the July issue of a regional paper, but people keep reporting link errors, so here it is to hopefully a wider audience. Now you really know what I think about lawns.
Finally, it’s the weekend. Lazy  mornings where the fog of a long 
sleep creeps delightfully into every  waking observation—the robins 
feeding their young at the nest, bees  hopping from coreopsis to 
coneflower, the cool breeze before a  suddenly warm afternoon. And the 
belching vibration of the neighbor’s  lawnmower along the fence, the 
sweet exhaust stinging one’s throat  on the retreat back inside.
It is impossible to have coffee on the  deck or to be heard in casual
 conversation on most any summer evening  or weekend. I have a neighbor 
who mows three times a week, tossing  nutrient-rich clippings, one-third
 of a lawn’s needed amount, into  the trash; and yet the perfect lines 
this neighbor leaves of “cut”  grass do not seem any lower than those of
 the uncut. Another neighbor  clearly prefers to mow less often—he 
scalps the yard once a week so  it turns brown, then sprinklers come out
 a few days later, usually on  a hot and windy late afternoon, 
evaporating long before the water  hits the roots. Why doesn’t he leave 
the lawn at 3 inches in height  and save on the water bill and time 
moving hoses?
Each weekend 54 million lawns are  mowed, together equivalent to the 
size of Virginia, using up 800  million gallons of gas (17 million lost 
due to spills). All kinds of  cancer-causing, asthma-irritating, 
blood-flow constricting,  sperm-killing compounds are inhaled by the 
person pushing the mower.  In California lawn equipment accounts for 10 
percent of the air  pollution, pollution that is equivalent to over one 
hour of driving  10 to 43 new cars (estimates vary) hundreds of miles 
over the same  amount of time. Mowers also run at 90 to 95 decibels, the
 same level  as a Harley. Anything over 85 decibels creates temporary or
 permanent  hearing loss.
So, fine, lawnmowers are the scourge of  suburbia, the hope of our 
mini kingdoms to serve as quiet and  sheltered acreages away from the 
stress of work and school. But what  about other tools we use to create 
and maintain our lawns? Chemical  companies have us believing we need to
 fertilize our lawns four times  a year with nitrogen-laden products; 
the excess nitrogen that lawns  can’t use turns into a powerful 
greenhouse gas, and much of it  leaches into groundwater and storm 
drains, polluting and choking  aquatic life. Take a look at the dead 
zone near the Mississippi delta  and in our farm ponds. Artificial 
nitrogen also sets up a cycle of  lawn dependency like a drug addict—the
 soil life dies, and the lawn  needs more juice, so you fertilize and 
mow and water more often.  Don’t forget about the process to produce all
 that fertilizer—an  energy-intensive ordeal that releases many 
greenhouse gases as a  result.
The argument will always be that we  need lawns for kids and pets to 
play in. But trust me—you don’t  want your kids running barefoot in a 
lawn slathered and sprayed in  who knows what. Of 30 commonly used lawn 
pesticides, for example, 19  are linked to cancer, 13 to birth defects, 
21 to reproductive  effects, 26 to liver and kidney damage and 15 to 
neurotoxicity (brain  development). Twenty-four of these pesticides are 
toxic to fish, 11  to bees and 16 to birds. And what about cost? An acre
 of lawn at a  church, apartment complex or industrial park over 20 
years will cost  roughly $20,000 to maintain—whereas the same acre in 
native  vegetation will cost $3,000. Why don’t we see more native  
vegetation at our workplaces? Why don’t churches and community  centers,
 especially, take a lead in this? And schools? Students who  interact 
with nature are proven to have higher creative and cognitive  skills, 
and children with Attention Deficit Disorder show astounding  
improvement.
Have some lawn, but border it with  relatively low-maintenance native
 shrubs and wildflowers. Have some  lawn, but don’t use inorganic 
chemicals or even any chemicals at  all—top-dress it with one-quarter 
inch of free city compost, like  LinGro in Lincoln. Let those prairie 
flower and shrub roots amend the  soil underneath and create thriving, 
self-sustaining ecosystems that  provide free nutrients and filter our 
groundwater. Think about using  an electric mower, which runs at 70 
decibels and costs $5 a year to  operate, or the innovative Fiskars reel
 mowers.
Our backyards are nature preserves—for  the birds and bees, and for 
our children and ourselves. As native  ecosystems lose their ability to 
sustain themselves, through habitat  loss and chemical overspray, we can
 create environments that  physically and emotionally sustain ourselves 
(and other species) with  less effort than we give our landscapes now. 
If anything, think about  how good that morning coffee will taste when 
you’re mowing less and  your kids are following a monarch from 
coneflower to coneflower and  across the naturally green lawn. You might
 even be able to hear the  hummingbird at a penstemon.
 
 
2 comments:
Amen, Herr Prairie! Just imagine the possibilities in one of the last landscape frontiers of the US...the native plants, and all the great design themes waiting to be unleashed?
I hear the freeway a bit on my cool morning coffees out on the patio, but nothing like mower noise. Plus fountain noise, hummingbirds zooming, etc.
Wonderfully written. I'm so glad I found this blog. It inspires me to know that there are others who realize that mower fumes are deathly toxic and the noise is literally deafening.
Allowing grass to grow longer in between mowings also gives it significantly more thickness and (very importantly) amazing drought resistance. One might be surprised too, by what pops up when you give it a week more to grow and raise the mower deck height as high as it will go.
I could go on, but you've already said it much better than I can.
Thank you!
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