To mow or not to mow. That is the question. Whether ’tis nobler to cultivate green, weed free space or to xeriscape. Here in dry Southwest Colorado, I have felt some guilt for still having a green grass lawn. In my defense, I have cut it down over the years to about half its original size and I rarely go over my allotted water allowance. The main reason, I told myself, was that I wanted my children to experience that wonderful delight of their bare feet on grass. So, I faithfully kept it, especially since it was essential for playing the BBL, the neighborhood famous Barefoot Baseball League.
My daughter and son played on the grass, with me as the designated pitcher for each. Mom was the devoted fan from her box seat on the front porch and Alex, the border collie, was a fabulous outfielder who could run down any ball hit. Not much of a throwing arm though. The rule was that you had to stop at the base when Alex chomped on the ball. He was fast. These were terrific games, that, in addition to the wonderful barefoot experience, were accompanied by those gleeful child noises. Sometimes a passerby would stop and applaud.
There is a movement now in Britain to let lawns grow wild, fostering tall grass and weeds and creating a better place for birds and bugs (and fireflies). This has some appeal, as another of my childhood memories is of laying down in a tall grass field for a nap. The appeal was a combination of the sun’s warmth and blue sky as well as both comfort and invisibility.
Here in Colorado, my experience is that the uncut lawn would create tall brown grasses with the only green being the weeds. Let me be clear, I am not anti-weed. Those of you who read this column know that I am a staunch defender of the thistle.
Though viewed as a weed here, it is the national flower of Scotland! The legend is that a barefoot soldier in the invading Danish army, attempting a surprise attack at night, stepped on a thistle and cried out in pain. This awakened the sleeping Scottish army which was then, of course, victorious.
I do mostly embrace dandelions. I prefer to dig them up, rarely use weed killers and indeed keep a portion of the lawn just for the dandelions to thrive. This adds a wonderful splash of Van Gogh yellow to my landscape painting.
Xeriscaping is another option. There are some good and bad in my neighborhood. Artificial grass is also becoming popular, and its look has improved substantially. However, you can still see the seams, and it still has to be raked or blown free of pinecones, needles and leaves, all of which we seem to have a bumper crop of this year.
British and French aristocrats in the 17th and 18th centuries cultivated expansive manicured grassy areas as a symbol of status and refinement. Americans adopted that and evolved it to represent not just individual status but shared community values.
A 2025 survey by Tractor Supply found 45% of Americans felt happy or motivated about lawn care; 15% felt exhausted; 14% frustrated and 11% drained. I am part of the 45%.
My kids are grown and gone now, which means bare feet on grass was not the only reason I wanted a lawn. I find creating a pattern while mowing, and the immediate satisfaction of accomplishment, fit well within my retirement philosophy: Do simple things well. It is still reassuring and therapeutic for me to mow and hand water. And I have never been driven by guilt. I think it is a mostly useless and often wasted emotion.
Jim Cross is a retired Fort Lewis College professor and basketball coach living in Durango. Reach him at cross_j@fortlewis.edu.
