Four years ago I stopped mowing a section of lawn behind my house. It was a couple of hundred square feet we no longer needed for soccer, baseball, and football from when the kids were young. I no longer built backyard ice rinks. What was the point of having all that lawn?
I allowed the patch to return to nature’s whim. During the first summer the grass grew uniformly tall and a breeze caused gentle waves. By the season’s end, the grass collapsed and turned brown. Over the next few years, other plant life emerged. Several white pines have taken root and are thriving. Two small junipers are fighting for light. And then this year—the burst of goldenrod.
The goldenrod has bloomed over the last few weeks, a brilliant yellow marker of September. I’ve always appreciated goldenrod because it signals the humidity of summer coming to a close and the transition to a cooler, crisper autumn, my favorite season.
Some people consider goldenrod a nemesis that aggravates their allergies. But it’s not goldenrod bothering you—it’s ragweed, which also blooms this time of year. Goldenrod’s pollen is sticky and spread by bees and other pollinators, while ragweed’s pollen is lightweight and spread by the wind. A single ragweed plant can produce over a billion pollen grains and cause allergy symptoms even at low concentrations.
As Owen said to me, I’m letting the forest take over. So far, I’m pleased. I wouldn’t call this patch a forest, not yet, but trees, perennials, grasses, and plants I can’t identify are all thriving. I love my natural patch. But what do my neighbors think of my going au naturel? They should be grateful. It’s not like I’ve got a barking dog. I run my lawnmower less frequently. I’m not hanging Trump signs. I’m simply honoring our natural world in one tiny plot of suburban America.
