Grass. Lawns. Why they matter.

The modern grass lawn consists of domesticated grass types which can, with effort, be kept green more or less year round. Grass by its nature has a life cycle that includes a dormant period where it is dry on the surface, retaining moisture and root resiliency below the ground. To keep it green year round requires varying amounts of water, and keeping it manicured requires human and mechanical energy. Many lawns are maintained with chemicals which then enter the larger ecosystem when we do get rain. And keeping the lawn free of insects and/or weeds is often desired, so straight-up poison is added to the mix (pet and human safe, of course, or so we are told).

The modern lawn as an American icon and obsession reached its height in the 1960s, and comes to us from Europe, where such lawns were both beautiful and a symbol of status. This was also the same time period when the landmark book by Rachel Carson, Silent Spring, shed light on many of the ways we are killing the planet through our agricultural practices...even the ones that seem harmless.

The whole of modern human evolution happened in the last ten thousand years of a climate sweet spot which, in large part by our own doing, may be over. Now that we've finally more or less noticed, we're scrambling to do things like make sure we have enough water for human use. Grass is under fire. Grass is a major culprit in our water crisis. Grass needs to go...right?

Maybe. But it won't be without consequences. Grass (and trees and all plants) provide oxygen, atmospheric cooling, carbon sequestering, moisture retention, moisture attraction, habitat, and the less tangible emotional/spiritual benefit that humans experience from interacting with this plant species.

While our streets and houses are radiating the days' heat all night long and into the next morning, grass is cool. Go out barefoot at 10 PM on a summer evening and feel the heat of the asphalt and concrete. Then step with those same warm feet onto a bit of grass. Do it at 6 AM the following morning. The concrete is still warm. The grass is still cool.

As we tear out lawn after maligned lawn, we are underestimating its value as a cooling agent. There is no other thing like grass.

These "ornamental, useless" lawns are balancing islands of oxygen and cool air, offsetting our heat-radiating homes and streets. We weren't really thinking that way necessarily when we started planting grass and trees and flowers around our homes, but that's what we did...we grew some oxygen producing, carbon sequestering, dust mitigating, water retaining balance for our lifestyles.

We have created a sprawling, heat-producing, pollution-generating suburban/urban environment which needs the life-giving support of plants, including grass.

Okay, so what about tearing out the grass and planting natives? Pollinators?Widely popularized by everyone from wildlife advocates to water districts?

Native plants are great. I advocate a mixture of both. Keep some lawn. Add some beneficial, locally indigenous species.

Native species and pollinators are a completely different mind-set from what you might be used to. You are now creating a habitat for wildlife. That is a wonderful thing. It's also completely counter to the manicured mentality. You are inviting local insect and bird life to thrive in what you consider your personal space. To do so successfully you need to make sure your plants were raised organically or at the very least, without pesticides, so that they do not have chemicals that will kill your wildlife (this is an ongoing problem for people raising monarch butterflies and using nursery-purchased milkweed).

You also need to educate yourself about what a native plant is. Every plant is native to somewhere. Fountain grass is native to Africa. If you don't live anywhere close to a wilderness area, open space or other natural landscape, fountain grass is fine. Once its seeds get loose in our open spaces, it becomes an aggressive invasive species, competing with our own indigenous plants. The same is true for hundreds if not thousands of other plants that are sometimes labeled "native" and often "drought tolerant."

What about scale? Native plants need to be a good physical fit for your space. Most natives thrive with pruning, so this may not be much of a concern.

What about hardscaping? Using rocks and concrete instead of plants for landscaping? It can be beautiful, yes, but while I love rocks, they retain heat, and they do not produce oxygen, or sequester carbon. A hardscape radiates heat, not moisture. A hardscape turns a once-cool lawn into another hot, dry space.

So keep some grass. Water at night. Water less, and be okay with the cycle of life. Grass is tough. As long as it has an intact root system, it will come back. Stop using chemicals on your grass, and offer it some bit of your attention instead. Take your shoes off and enjoy getting grounded. Let the dogs roll and the children play. Let there be some cooling balance for the long, hot days ahead.

(I speak for grass passionately and from two very different perspectives. I know the native southern California flora of the Angeles National Forest where I reside much better than I know my way around a nursery. But I also care for my mother's suburban Ventura County property which has a sprawling 1/4 acre of grass and 18 huge water-loving cypress trees, planted fifty years ago by my mom, and still her pride and joy today as she nears her earth journey's end. At my mother's house, I have let 3/4 of the lawn fall mostly dormant, and struggle with the giant cypress. They provide morning shade in the summer, and habitat for many animals, and all the emotional things we have tied around them...but I am watering them only just enough to keep them alive, envisioning how this landscape might be done differently and better, and knowing that it may not be for me to make those changes).