I have seen a number of articles lately about converting our grassy lawns to insect-friendly gardens replete with flowering shrubs and exotic ground covers. I like the idea, but have struggled with how to implement it. I like having a lawn that opens up the lot and highlights the beds around the outside and facilitates walking barefoot.

I remember one of our Texas neighbors had no lawn areas, but filled her yard with tended beds full of flowers and flowering shrubs. We kids used to go there to hunt Horney Toads, because you could spot them in the walkways and trap them under the shrubbery. You had to hold them carefully or they could stick you with their horns, and they also ‘spit’ what we called tobacco juice, a dark brown regurgitation that we desperately avoided. Other than the hunting, it was pretty, but looked like a lot of work, suitable for a retired couple, I suppose.

On the other hand, our own front yard had a sidewalk that left a strip of grass between the curb and the sidewalk. This was called the tree lawn, because most people planted trees in that strip. Planting shrubs or flowers interfered with the curbside parking and egress that most of the houses needed, so it was usually left as a strip of lawn with big trees. This presented a challenge — though surmountable — when mowing the grass, since you couldn’t just mow in straight lines like across the rest of the lawn. It got more complicated if the trees grew large root systems that encroached on the grass.

The narrowness of the tree lawn also made it more difficult to water efficiently. Few yards in my neighborhood had sprinkler systems, so several times a week in the warmer months, we’d drag out the hose and attach sprinklers around to cover the whole lawn. There was a science involved in determining which sprinkler to use in each part of the lawn so as not to waste water. (Of course, each sprinkler had a different rate of flow so timing the relocation of the sprinkler could also be complicated. Now days we can just set an alarm on our cell phone to remind us, but one of the “dad” functions was to yell at us kids if we let the water run too long.)

We tried not to water the sidewalks, driveway or street, and that could require watering at a low rate and moving the sprinkler more frequently. In our neighborhood, most of the houses had street trees in the tree lawns. Shade was at a premium in Texas and few houses had functioning garages. Some houses had driveways or access to a garage from the alley, but most houses had to park at least one car at the curb. (It was particularly important not to ‘water’ any cars parked against our curb or in the driveway.)

We experimented with different sprinkler types for different locations. The normal ones shot out a circle or an oval pattern that was suited to the middle of the lawn areas, and there were a few with a square or rectangular pattern that could be used along the edges.

We finally found a hose with holes along its length that could be laid the length of the tree lawn. This was a great idea, but the amount of water distributed along its length varied over the distance from the hose tap. My solution was to switch the direction I laid it out so that the weaker end was switched with the stronger end every other time. It wasn’t perfect but addressed that particular problem.

Jane Margolies reports on the ongoing efforts in New York City to maintain tree lawns, “The tree bed is the unsung hero of the urban forest,” said Andrea Parker, executive director of the Gowanus Canal Conservancy, which has “ambassadors” in the Gowanus section of Brooklyn who watch over young trees and fill their beds with native plants. “If we’re going to build a robust tree canopy for the city, we need to be thinking about the ground and caring for the ground.”

Where we lived in Texas, trees were common, but we were surrounded by open prairies, so the ‘urban forest’ was an important idea. Much time was spent selecting new plantings and caring for the trees. At the time, there was no city-sponsored tree lawn approach and each homeowner took responsibility. I remember my dad made sure that we didn’t put fruiting trees along the curb or driveway, since the flowers and fruit could spot the cars, not to mention the droppings from birds that would be attracted.

Our tree lawn sported a couple of sycamore trees. When they and I were young, my Sunday school class read about a dude named Zacchaeus hiding in a Sycamore tree to see Jesus. Our trees were tall but fragile, and when I noted that I ‘d like to climb up into one, my dad suggested that if I did I might actually get to see ‘Jesus’!

I think I was barking up the wrong tree …

Additional Information:

Jane Margolies, In the Fight Over N.Y.C. Sidewalks, Tree Beds Are the Smallest Frontier, March 13, 2024, The New York Times

Ben Wilson, Let the Postpandemic City Grow Wild, May 9, 2023, The New York Times