The story of our beautifully untidy yard

An untreated lawn and butterfly flowerbed.

How did I come to have an untidy yard with beds full of leaves and a lawn sporting dandelions? It all started with violets . . .

We moved to Cleveland Heights in 2006, buying a house in the neighborhood between Cedar/Fairmount and Coventry. The house came with a lawn. Not knowing the options, we simply did what our neighbors did: hire a company to take care of it. They used riding lawn mowers and gas-powered leaf blowers. They sprayed herbicides and mulched. The aesthetic was what I’d describe as “tidy.” Tidy beds with only a few neatly mulched plants, tidy lawn with nothing but grass, tidy pavements with no evidence of their work.

I began to feel a conflict between the way I understand ecosystems, and what I saw in my yard. I believe the interconnected systems (plants, animals, water, soil, microbes, fungi, minerals, air, etc.) around me deserve respect. If I do not respect them, I harm myself.

The first thing I noticed was that the violets edging our flowerbeds and scattered in the lawn were disappearing. The rabbits that particularly enjoyed the violets were going elsewhere. The red-tailed hawks that particularly enjoyed the rabbits were seen less often.

I also struggled with the noise generated by the equipment, how it shattered the calm of our street. I didn’t want to disturb my neighbors (both older couples). When I had babies in the house, the noise ended the peace of many a nap. As a family trying to curb our C02 emissions, we questioned the carbon cost of these big mowers and blowers, as well as the consequences for air quality.

We understood that the lawn-care company’s economic model was driving its approach. The employees were wonderful people doing a job I wasn’t able to do myself. I appreciated them. I asked the company to stop using herbicides, to leave grass clippings, to be more careful of small plants and to minimize the blowing. They did their best to accommodate us. Ultimately, the noise and the emissions were a part of their business model.

So, we took over yard care. We bought an electric mower, and we rake leaves, using an electric leaf blower only rarely. We leave grass clippings and mulch-mow leaves into the lawn. We leave the leaves in beds over the winter. We shred some leaves for our vegetable garden. Our 100-year-old oak trees sequester plenty of CO2 and their fallen leaves provide valuable dry carbon to balance our compost. We show our kids how their hard work emptying kitchen scraps and adding shredded leaves becomes beautiful soil that becomes cucumbers and green beans.

It's a lot of work. Not everyone has the privilege of doing this work, whether because of physical limitations or a lack of time. Yet, an ecological approach to yard care is a wonderful gift. Being in connection to nature has well-established benefits for physical, mental, and community health. I share this with students in a class I teach on nature connection and wellness. Students discover that being outside, looking at plants and trees, listening to Doan Brook, helps them feel more connected and ready to act.

Perhaps the actions described here are actions you’re in a position to take. When we arrived in this community, we simply did what we saw our neighbors do. Now we hope that new neighbors might do what we do.

Next time, I’ll share a story about another class, one in which we propose an interesting new lawn-care idea. And I’ll update you on those violets, rabbits and hawks.

Fey Parrill

Fey Parrill teaches at CWRU.

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Volume 17, Issue 3, Posted 2:58 PM, 02.28.2024