Lawns, Steroids and Roger Clemens: Reclaim Your Turf -- Reassessing America's Past Time!

Lawn grass requires an inch of water a week – a 25’ x 40’ lawn needs about 10,000 gallons per summer.

Americans are passionate about grass…and baseball. After today’s release of the George Mitchell report, American baseball fans are reassessing the merits of Roger Clemens’ long standing achievements and baseball’s abilities to deal with its own turf. Though it is almost winter, and a winter storm is bearing down upon us, and gardening minds here in the Northeastern United States are far removed from the boys of summer and lawns, it seems as appropriate as any time to reassess the lawn. I may have raved against paving but nothing gets me riled up as much as the American lawn…

Americans are passionate about grass. Just ask any homeowner about their lawn and you will quickly uncover their attitude about gardening, their home and neighbors.

I have no lawn, for reasons I’ll explain later, but my childhood recollections of grass are memorable: the pungent smell of grass-stained pants while playing football; the brilliant, blinding green grass of Fenway Park; earning pocket change cutting lawns in my neighborhood; my Dad always fussing and fiddling with our lawnmower, inevitably enlisting me to go and borrow the neighbor’s machine.

Today, more than thirty years later, my parents’ “lawn” is mostly moss, violets, clover and crabgrass. All the real grass is gone. A “good” lawn is no longer desirable, its present condition the result of neglect, old age, and shifting priorities. Yet when viewed from the driveway or the kitchen window, it still looks like and functions as a lawn (at least the Canadian geese, who forage there most spring seasons, haven’t complained.)

For me a “good” lawn is no lawn. I live on a small urban lot (6400 sq. ft) perched on a steep hill, with thin, sandy soil, not exactly ideal conditions for growing and maintaining grass. When we moved here awhile back, I spent the first two years methodically removing the existing grass (mostly crabgrass and pernicious dog grass), replacing it with big perimeter borders, giant sweeps of groundcovers, vegetable parterres, a rock garden, patio, driveway, even large expanses of mulch to smother the grass in the remaining areas, until we could get around to planting them. My goal was simple: get rid of the grass so I could spend my time growing food.

Many people spend and hour or two a week mowing the lawn. Some even claim to enjoy it. Others consider it drudgery, and look forward to it about as much as a visit to the dentist. But they do it anyway, for a variety of reasons (community peer pressure, status, familiarity, mass advertising by the lawn-care industry, zoning ordinances). And in some neighborhoods it must be a “good” lawn: a plot of grass of one species with no competing weeds, uniformly cut low, neatly edged, a dark even green color, sustained by regular doses of water, fertilizers and pesticides. These lawns use lots of energy and cost big money. As a culture, Americans are obsessed with their lawns. So much so that it is difficult for many Americans to imagine residential yards without large expanses of low-cut grassy areas.

But there are alternatives to the above scenario. The American landscape of the single family home surrounded by grass – our current model – became widely popular only after World War II, with the growth of suburbia. By the 1990’s, the collective size of lawns cultivated in the United States equaled the size of the state of Michigan! (For a fascinating read on the topic of how the lawn has single-handedly transformed the ordinary landscape in the 20th Century, see Virginia Scott Jenkins’ excellent book, The Lawn: A History of an American Obsession. Smithsonian Institution Press, 1994.) Regrettably, it only takes a generation or two to obscure history. Prior to the Civil War, it was rare for Americans to have a lawn. In most towns, houses were built close to the street, some with small fenced-in front yards. In rural areas, the farms, houses, and outbuildings were surrounded by fields, pastures, and gardens, or the packed, bare grounds of farmlands (Jenkins). European immigrants, accustomed to domestic living conditions where privacy is valued, oriented their gardens inward or behind the house. Yards often were enclosed by walls or fences, and the lawn was not seen from the street. Even now, in other cultures around the world, the idea of cultivating a lawn seems strange (Jenkins).

What do our uniformly-laid out front lawns say about our present American culture? For a growing segment of people, our residential landscapes need to change to reflect a new concern for ecology, responsible resource use and the choice of individual homeowners. Why have a lawn if you are not going to use it?

Who needs a lawn? Lawns are superb for serving as a multifaceted area in the yard for many activities – a play area for sports and kids, a place for the dog, picnics and barbecues. And they can be a time-saving device: simply mow it as needed and spend your free time doing more enjoyable activities. Yet most yards are either too small to effectively incorporate multiple activities, or so big that mowing becomes a serious chore. In most cases, you can get by with less lawn – or it you’re bold, no lawn – and increase the beauty and efficiency of your yard. Here’s how:

• Eliminate the lawn in areas where it simply won’t grow or is impractical. If you’re not sure where these areas are, go out and visually inspect your yard. Or better yet, think about those areas that are a pain to cut with your mower. Sloped terrain, areas where tree roots are exposed (trees will win the battle for water and nutrients), large shady patches of ground beneath mature tree canopies, soggy or seasonally wet soils, gravelly or very thin, sandy soils are difficult areas to keep grass growing.
• Eliminate grass in areas where it doesn’t improve aesthetic appeal. The front and side yard areas and entryways are such places. Reconsider those narrow foundation beds where you’re constantly cutting back (hacking and disfiguring) shrubbery when it protrudes into the lawn. Why not remove the lawn, extend the beds, and give plants room to grow a natural shape (This brings to mind another silly current American obsession: foundation plantings, where plants are crowded tightly together against the house and pruned into balls, boxes and lollipops. Why?)
• When you grow a lawn, switch to a polyculture of drought-tolerant and insect-resistant grasses and plants (the opposite of many lawns that have one or two varieties of grass, requiring a steady onslaught of chemicals and water to keep them lush and green. While there is no such thing as a natural lawn (think about it: lawns are inherently unnatural) you can build a lawn that requires less water, chemicals and care, and even one that flowers during the seasons!) The widespread hybridization of grasses and technological advances make it possible to grow grasses in every region of the country. Select a grass that will thrive in your existing conditions or modify your conditions to match the needs of a particular grass. Educate yourself about grass varieties and their cultural requirements. It’s interesting to note that most gardeners and homeowners know the names of at least some of the plants in their yards; yet for most people, grasses are anonymous, lumped together as one species, devoid of change and development. Choose grass varieties appropriate for your particular climate. Or consider an alternative to a lawn, such as a meadow or groundcovers. (see these pages soon for a listing of grass varieties and alternatives to grasses.)
• A successful lawn is dependent upon the ability to grow grass and the aesthetic desire to have one. If you want a lawn, improve your soil (this applies to everything you grow) and eliminate wasteful maintenance practices. This is contrary to the lawn-care industry practice of chemically inoculating a lawn, feeding the plant instead of the soil. Chemical fertilizers are like my morning cup of coffee. Once your lawn gets hooked, it will be irritable whenever it doesn’t get its “fix.” Soil science is complex and takes many years of hands-on work to fully understand, but if you want to raise a hardy lawn, start by enriching the soil. (For an explanation on how to improve your soil, look for an in-depth discussion in these pages come late winter!)
• Consider installing an irrigation system for both the lawn and ornamental/ vegetable areas. There are lots of do-it-yourself kits on the market or you can hire a professional to install one. The proper irrigation system will help conserve water but it’s up to you to water at the proper intervals. Avoid watering during the heat of the day or near dusk; early in the morning and late afternoon is best. When watering a lawn, try to keep excess water away from the foliage of vegetables, fruit trees, perennials and shrubs; this is a quick way to spread diseases. Better yet, replant your lawn with drought-tolerant plants and save the water for your valuable trees, shrubs and edibles.
• Finally, ask yourself two important lifestyle questions: What are my priorities for the yard? Do I have the time, interest, energy and money to devote growing large carpets of lawn? While it is undeniable that a freshly cut, well watered, dark-green lawn appeals to many and evokes a flood of pleasurable feelings, few people have the “know-how” to keep their own lawn looking consistently “good,” particularly in some geographic regions (the humid south and northeast, the arid southwest), or during weather extremes. And after all, why waste water on the lawn? If you’re serious about growing some of your own food in an edible landscape (as this writer is), it might not make sense to have a lawn (particularly if your yard is small). On the other hand, if your yard is sizeable – over 10,000 square feet of open space – or your time and gardening skills limited, a lawn can keep outdoor chores to a minimum. The down side: if lawns are not cut carefully, clippings go into borders, time-consuming edging must be done and the watering of the lawn can be detrimental to adjacent plantings (powdery mildew).

For a large segment of the population, a yard full of grass provides a connection to nature but keeps it at a safe distance. It’s alive yet fully under control. Ironically, under its duff in many a suburban development sits fantastic topsoil teeming with life built by generations of farmers who cultivated a complex and close relationship with nature. The soil life (and that of the farmers), snuffed out and forgotten, hermetically sealed in seemingly unending suburban plats, the lawns serving as coffins. The widespread proliferation of the lawn may very well be our number one cultural icon, supplanting more far reaching achievements of the latter 20th century – medical breakthroughs, air and space travel, the invention of the television and the personal computer. So next spring when the baseball season begins anew, resist supporting lawns and baseball players hooked on steroids; and instead, when visiting the ball park, or mowing your lawn, allow yourself time to imagine, to dream, about what has been and what could be. Reclaim your turf…by reassessing the lawn!

Raving Against Paving

“To build a road is so much simpler than to think of what the country really needs.”
Aldo Leopold

Our yearning for ‘hitting the road’ and exploring new terrain is an American obsession that predates the invention of the automobile. Early settlers moving westward via animal power established trails and encampments that spawned our culture’s unending desire to experience new places, see new sights, exploit resources and impose changes in land use patterns.

The introduction of the automobile, the development of suburbia and a national highway system gives most of us freedom and mobility to move as we choose but at what cost? The typical car commuter spends upwards of 90 minutes per day getting to and from work. Big-box stores – and their massive parking lots -- demark the ‘landscape’ everywhere, eschewing vernacular architecture and land patterns. The paved land in the United States totals an area greater than Georgia; nearly two-thirds of Los Angeles is said to be covered in asphalt; we lay enough new blacktop each year to cover all of the state of Delaware; so many logging roads dissect national forests that the U.S. Forest Service qualifies as one of the world’s largest road building agencies (see Landscape Architecture #85, 2003).

So many roads crisscross the United States that it might be time to consider something radical: road removal. Why? Roads introduce pollution to an area from the time construction begins. Creating a roadbed removes vegetation and increases erosion. Construction of a divided highway can produce as much as 3,000 tons of eroded sediment per mile. Vehicles traveling on roadways produce carcinogenic or toxic emissions: carbon monoxide, nitrogen oxides, ozone, benzene, heavy metals, etc. Maintenance of roads brings more contamination. Oil products seep into water and poison aquatic life; herbicides inhibit biodiversity and remove desirable species along roadsides; de-icing saline-based products sicken animals and stimulate algae in drainage areas. Roads disturb hydrology: annual runoff from Washington, D.C. area roads carries more spilled oil than the Exxon Valdez.

Road-generated noise pollution proliferates into neighboring communities altering human and animal patterns. An estimated one million animals are ‘road-killed’ every day. US human fatalities average close to 40,000 annually. Taxpayers spend upwards of $200 million per day on roadways. The list goes on and on…

Is road removal worth considering? Organizations such as the Road Removal Implementation Project (ROAD-RIP) think yes. ROAD-RIP focuses its attention on the roads on public wildlands –areas overseen by the Bureau of Land Management – such as national parks, national forests, wildlife refuges. Working as a coalition of wilderness/preservation groups, ROAD-RIP works to identify roads deemed most damaging to wildlands and seeks to get them removed. Road removal means complete removal: removing all pavement and the compacted sub-base; restoring natural grade and replanting the entire area with native species. Successful projects to date include work in California’s Redwood National Park.

Are users of roadways in our Public domain ready for road removal? Judging by our television ads touting automobiles the answer seems a resounding no. But public sector roadways could benefit from redesign features: developing transit nodes – combining park and ride lots with bikeways and trains; retrofitting existing roadways with high-occupancy vehicle lanes; introducing alternative pavement materials – such as porous asphalt; eliminating at all costs the desire to build new super highways.

Our landscapes and our way of life are defined by pavement and our desire to drive in individual cars on it. Don’t think so? Try, for just one day, to eliminate using your personal automobile to go about doing the rituals of your daily routine. Maybe our best long term solution isn’t to rave against paving but to become more aware of the ramifications of paving. Insist that designers and government agencies redesign communities to maximize pedestrian, bicycle and transit access. Promote the viewpoint that open space remain open and encourage cluster development in new site design so that larger areas can be road-free. Use your home landscape as a perfect testing ground, a living laboratory, for attempting to make a new landscape order.

"Anyone can sell a good product, but to sell a piece of crap, now that takes real talent." Is 'Design' and 'Handwerk' increasingly less valued?

There appears to be a growing misconception in mainstream America about just what exactly is ‘design,’ its value to the individual, and the culture at large. Big-box stores, mass media outlets, educational institutes and even the “design disciplines”– to name just a few entities – can share the blame for muddying the term. In many circles design is a commodity, produced by a recipe, cranked out, apparently, by anyone. In this line of thinking – propelled by mass-marketing forces – there is no such thing as ‘bad design’ …and very little ‘site-specific design.’ This ‘one size-fits-all, rip and read’ approach to design has produced another disturbing trend: an increasing de-valuation in ‘handwerk.’ And begs the question: just what does distinguish the artist from the artisan?

It’s interesting to note that within the discipline of studio arts, artists and artisans share at least one thing in common: the desire and need to make something tangible, real and honest. Most are willing to acknowledge that in the very making come the creative ideas, the understanding of their design process, and quality work.

Why is it that those in the “design disciplines” – particularly architects and landscape architects – more often than not dismiss with scorn and intellectual indifference their brethren who choose to design with a hands-on approach?

Perhaps tradition plays an important role in fostering these attitudes. Painters, sculptors, jewelers, ceramists, and furniture designers, to name a few, must first learn basic skills of their craft --often in art schools like I attended – before ever hoping to truly conceive and design works of art.

This is rarely the case in the design disciplines. For example, many landscape architects admittedly claim little knowledge about soils, plants and climate, lack practical hands-on knowledge about construction methods (even the basics such as planting a tree, building a bench or a walkway), and seemingly are disdainful of those who do. Yet they consider themselves artful designers, relying upon their training (largely conceptual) as a pedigree for success. We expect artisans to understand the properties of metal, wood, concrete and fiberglass before we hire them as metalsmiths, furniture designers, home builders and boat makers. So why do we train students to become professional architects and landscape architects who have never laid a hand on wood, steel, stone and soil?

As in all the design professions, there is a tremendous amount of diverse knowledge needed to work in one’s chosen field. The profession of landscape architecture is no different. On the one hand, it’s a small, specialized field encompassing engineering, horticulture, sociology, sculpture and such basic design elements as texture and color. On the other hand, its all about production and has little to do with anything creative and everything to do with the making of things that sell and make money. Art or craft made by artists or artisans? I guess we all have our opinions on that. It’s time those of us who choose to make and design appreciate our tactile, artful nature, celebrate our craftiness and revel in our uniqueness. And for all of us to ponder these words penned from the late author and social critic Norman Mailer: "corporations used to have some pride in their products. Now they have pride in their marketing...Anyone can sell a good product, but to sell a piece of crap, now that takes real talent."

Preventing A Garden

In the November 2007 issue of Garden Design Magazine, plant guru Dan Hinckley wonders if he “is just another angry white gardener. You know the type. We are irate in general but don’t know exactly why or what for. We don’t like to look too closely at the basis of irritation for fear we are ourselves at the root.” I roared and snorted a bit out loud as I read his piece while crammed into a busy Amtrak train car, startling my seat mate who raised her head and rolled her eyes at me, as if waiting to see if I was drooling or sputtering uncontrollably. I felt my face redden a bit, nodded politely at her and slunk down in my seat a bit…and kept reading…chuckling silently inside as I read Hinckley’s rant about the nonsensical mass marketing of hot dogs, hot dog rolls, bedding plant cell packaging and its impact on big and small garden centers alike. As I read his piece I took some comfort in knowing I was not the only misanthropic gardener out there. I too boil over when I see ill-formed retaining walls, phony red mulch and ‘parsley around the pig’ (meaningless blobs of balls, boxes and corkscrew trimmed plants) shoehorned into everyday ‘popular’ landscapes. Yet my pet peeve is slightly different: as a designer of gardens and landscapes of all sorts, hired by others to put my educational training and practical work experience to work, why do so many people become obstacles to achieving good garden and landscape design? Why do some clients trust you to design personal, meaningful site-specific gardens while others are obstinate clients, inflexible, obstructing, disregarding every attempt to create gardens incorporating function, form, meaning and style? Some times, at the end of a project, I can’t wait to get away from ‘the design’ that’s been created. And I’m fearful of ‘the design’ becoming unleashed and realized…and possibly my name being attached to it. For in those instances, often times, ‘the design’ that has been created is an elixir of opinions from the mailman, Uncle Tommy, the ‘certified consultant’ from the big-box superstore down the street, and a clip seen on HGTV. More than a bit irritated, I’m left thinking: just what exactly is design? Is there such a thing as good design? And if so, how does one recognize it? As a designer, if I’m not part of the solution, then am I part of the problem? Once again, it’s comforting to discover this is not my revelation alone, or a product of our modern times. In 1958, the remarkable (some would say irascible) landscape architect James Rose wrote the following in his essay entitled, How to Prevent a Garden: “I think it is possible to explain how to lay bricks or plant a shrub, and there are many good books which do just this, but to tell someone, whose place you have never seen, how to design a garden is like a doctor trying to perform an appendectomy over the telephone when he is not sure the patient has appendicitis.” The next time I’m more than a bit irritated about some design gone array, I plan to break out Rose’s essay…chuckle and snort a bit out loud...and hope that I’m not sitting next to the same woman in my favorite coffee shop or an Amtrak train car.

Stay tuned to this space for more detailed explorations on the nature of good (and bad) design!

Where's the Rain?

As all plant lovers know, it's been real dry of late here in the Northeast...we could use a good, long rain event! Let's hear from everyone regarding how this dry spell is impacting your landscapes. Are existing plantings suffering? Have you postponed plans for fall planting? How important is drought-tolerance when selecting plantings for your landscape? Are some plants simply thriving despite the lack of natural rainfall?

Parsley Around the Pig or Serious Endeavor? A Look at the practice of Edible Landscaping

I’m tired of landscape architects, designers, nurserymen and “flower gardeners” rolling their eyes whenever the topic of edible landscaping comes up. Many of these people dismiss it as the latest trendy fad; an insignificant form of gardening practiced by neophytes or old hippies; a style of garden that lacks true form, structure, aesthetics or meaning; and one that really isn’t worth considering except to chuckle. Professionals trained in design, particularly, seem to believe that building a garden incorporating edible plants as integral devices for giving meaning, structure and use to a garden design, is less noble and worthy than designing a garden of architectural devices: hardscape elements, built structures, symmetry, axiality, and plant materials that serve form – usually formal – and don’t worry about function.

In graduate school I had a professor in landscape architecture who referred to much of the current wave of landscape design as nothing more than “putting parsley around the pig.” This was his expression of disdain for the “power elite” of engineers, architects and planners that left landscape architects out of the initial design decision-making loop, only to be brought in on a project at the last minute to apply the frosting on the cake or the parsley around the pig.

Translation: the lowly landscape architect’s role is to put plants around the building foundation. It is a degrading and meaningless role and one that, by its very repetitious nature and high visibility, unfortunately encourages gardeners, homeowners, and nurserymen to emulate and further water down.

What many of the engineers, architects and planners fail to realize is that some people want and expect more from their landscapes. To put it succinctly, much of the current thinking about landscape design as it relates to garden making is outmoded, does not speak about our culture today and is based upon an outdated paradigm.

For those who realize this, there is no turning back. For those that don’t, there is little consideration given to anything beyond the status quo. There is much concern today about the quality of our environment and its effect on quality of life. Until recently, the “green industry” – landscape architects and designers, contractors, lawn care maintenance services, the nursery industry, land grant universities and agribusiness – failed, on average, to consider the holistic ramifications of designing and building landscapes with plant materials that required expensive and extensive amounts of chemical fertilizers, herbicides, pesticides and water to maintain them.

In many ways, a “softer path” of design – designing with diverse species that include native plants and mimicking natural planting communities that conserve water, require minimal inputs of fertilizers and pesticides – has become a reality. However, don’t credit the above-mentioned professionals. The change has come about due to watchdog conservation groups, concerned citizens, government budget cuts, extensive development of suburbia and drought-like conditions over many areas of the U.S.

The demand for a more sustainable approach toward designing and building landscapes has trickled up to the professional ranks and finally some positive change is occurring.

Still, much more needs to be done to educate the “green industry,” politicians, government agencies and the general public alike. It seems that the typical home landscape is a perfect testing ground, a living laboratory, for attempting to make a new landscape order.

It is one that considers regional climate and conditions – soils, ecosystems, cultural traditions and patterns – to facilitate the creation of landscapes that satisfy basic needs: to have beauty around us, to create unique and personal surroundings, to lessen our negative impact on the environment.

Edible landscaping is one mode for designing and devising a landscape of personal meaning. But just what is edible landscaping? What role can it play, if any, to improve our personal and global environment, our sense of well being? Stay tuned to these pages for more on this subject!