No Longer a Front Yard

All the grass is gone from the front of our house, replaced by gorilla hair mulch, beautiful granite boulders, pale cobble stones and native plants with pink, yellow and purple blossoms. The landscapers followed our carefully-thought-out plan to conserve water and host pollinators, though I nearly had a heart attack when we took out the old sage and salvia - right out from under the legs of happy bees. Fortunately, I have already seen a few return to buzz around the new purple blossoms. We don't know what to call this front area now; it's no longer a yard or a lawn. Perhaps "front garden"?

Of course the sprinklers aren't yet fixed and Rob and I hand-watered our baby plants over the weekend, carefully assessing their health and well-being. The landscapers are returning this morning to (hopefully) rectify the watering issues. As every home-owner knows, a project is never complete when the contractors first drive away.

Here in Colorado, sterile green grass lawns are rapidly becoming dinosaurs. They rebuff our desperately-needed bees and - if sprinkled with pesticides - harm any wildlife that traverses the bluegrass. High water bills remind us of the precious nature of water, water we are supposed to share with seven states that rely on the Colorado River. Slowly, we are phasing out the old lawns. Rumor has it that - beginning next summer - the state may have funds to pay people to remove their green grass.

So we jumped the gun by doing it this year and missed out on a possible rebate, but our new native plants are on drip irrigation and we plan to use much less water. This year we've been blessed with monsoon clouds and some afternoon rains, so forest fires haven't yet loomed large on the western horizon. We count these blessings daily, after suffering from heat and poor air quality all last summer and fall, but never take the moisture for granted. It's a new normal here, and our beautiful native not-yard will hopefully be part of a healthy trend.