#nomow

August 6, 2022

As we begin our task with figuring out how to steward our small piece of land in Wisconsin, the first step we took was to not mow our lawn. We didn't purchase a lawn mower or weed wacker. We wanted to know who was living here before us. What plants called this place home before we did? The best way to do that is to sit back and let them show you.

The chaos of moving in and welcoming Milo to our family was a beautiful, difficult, whirlwind. When the air began to settle, as we did in our new home, we began to get to know our plantcestors that will live with us forever more. Catnip, Boneset, Bergamot, Burdock, Motherwort, Columbine, Sunflowers, and Elderberries began to grow with abundance around us. I got to know the joy of Eastern Daisy Fleabane and White Vervain. We made our first batch of Esperanza's Acres tincture from these plants after we knew them well. We also noticed a plethora of "invasive species" which indicate the history of colonization this land has experienced.

Part of growing new on this land necessitates we give a good death to that which cannot grow with us. For us, this looked like vigorous and intentional removal of Sumac, Buckthorn, Grape-Leaf Ivy, Virginia Creeper, Garlic Mustard, and Yellow Archangel. Life is tenacious, and each grew back with vengeance. At least I'll forever know, I'm incapable of boredom with such a task ahead. 

What we did not expect was a confrontation with our local city officials over the length of the grass of our yard. 

As I sat at my computer, attending classes to further my knowledge in such practices, a city official came to our home and tried to slip a note under our door. I saw his reflection in the window and went out to meet him. Upon catching him in the act of trying to leave a "Notice to Mow Lawn/Weeds" without confrontation, we learned a lot about what aesthetic, people-pleasing, and conformity have to do with citizenship.

Our city only allows turf grass to grow to a terminal length of 8 inches. Our city has decided that grass longer than 8 inches is not just "unsightly" for aesthetic reasons, but is also a fire and safety hazard. Someone had complained to the city that our grass was over 8 inches. They sent someone to investigate this fact. And we were served with a notice to cut our grass in 3 days or the city would hire someone to cut our grass for us and we would then have to pay the city back for that cost.

I explained to the city official that we were restoring native prairie and forest to our small patch of land. To which I was told I would have to register our prairie as an official "prairie reserve." In order to be considered an "official" prairie we would have to fence off any sections that were deemed "natural" (because the one thing you don't want in a prairie reserve is wildlife... clearly) and we could not have any turf grass in "natural" areas.

So I asked him are you the one who is going to pay to remove all my turf grass and replace it with native perennial grass or should I talk to someone else? 

The clear difference between an "untended lawn" and a "prairie reserve" is clear - class. Had we had the money to transition our property quickly by purchasing labor and materials to transition our yard from turf grass to native prairie in one season, we would not have gotten such a complaint. However, like the signs we've now posted on our property say, it takes 3-5 years to establish a native prairie, even when it's accelerated with resource and wealth.