Gopher gulch: You really don’t need to water grass

By now the dandelions should be going to seed above the lavender self-heal in your blond lawn, while bumblebees belly up to the bar for nectar. You may have wild strawberries in the dry grass and cobwebs on the lawn mower.

When did we begin calling the native plants and grasses weeds and become gullible enough to pay good money to have them eradicated? Since newspaper columnists are shiftless and irresponsible, we’ve got time to research this sort of goofiness.

It turns out that when the rich and powerful lived in English castles, they set animals to grazing near the walls. This kept meat on the hoof safely nearby in case of siege, and provided a clear view across the terrain so that invaders couldn’t sneak up on the castle. In no time at all, social-climbing peasant wives insisted that their men provide short turf around the hovel, and the rest is history.

Beginning in the 19th century, Americans took to lawns like fish to water — and both fish and water have been adversely impacted ever since. According to the National Gardening Association, we spend over $40 billion annually on the care and cutting of grass, not counting the $750 million we spend on seed.

Here comes the part you don’t want to hear, so feel free to cover your ears. If your grass is green and succulent, free of dandelions, self-heal and milkweed, you’re wasting precious water, polluting the air and contributing to the shortage of bees. A gas-powered lawn mower emits more than 10 times the air pollution of a new car.

Approximately 50 percent of our residential water is used for landscaping, and most of that is for lawns. Nearly 70 million pounds of pesticides, herbicides and other chemicals are applied to lawns each year.

Once released into the air, those chemicals travel substantial distances, even on windless days. Not only that, but they’re carried into the house on shoes, pets and children. Once they’re embedded in carpets and furniture, they don’t degrade nearly is quickly as they would outside.

Tom Cook, a biologist at Oregon State University, says we don’t need to irrigate lawns. During the rainy season, grass grows rapidly, both above and below the surface. When the rains end, the visible part appears to die, while the roots hunker down and become dormant. The grass will green up nicely as soon as the rains begin. And what does he suggest we do while our lawns are toasting to a nice, golden brown?

“I’d go fishing or play golf and not worry about the lawn,” he says. The contradictions in that statement mirror the American tug-of-war between those who love and those who hate lawns. There are no lawns more water-wasteful and pesticide-laden than golf courses.

A certain reversal is normal this time of year. Blond children have green hair after a summer of chlorinated pools, and green grass turns blond. Don’t sweat the small stuff.

Reach Inez Castor, a long-time Triplicate columnist, at inezcastor@premo

web.com.