This year’s drought has devastated lawns and much else besides – but where once there was grass, there’s now the chance to do things differently.
This summer’s drought, which in England is far from over, put our gardens through one almighty stress-test. Soil baked. Borders buckled. Seedlings shrivelled. Greenhouses boiled. Crops stalled. Butts ran dry. Trees shed their leaves. Treasured plants expired. Lawns turned brown and grass died – but it didn’t just turn brown and then sprout back after the first soaking rain. It’s dead. Gone. Finito. Where once there was grass, there’s now bare soil that’s bursting with opportunity for nature to take the lead and do what it does best: heal.
A recce of my local towns (trying not to peer too obviously at one post-drought lawn after another) told the same story: the lack of water was so severe, even here in north Wales, that lawn grasses, fine and rank, died, either across whole lawns, or in patches. A similar pattern showed in public green spaces, along pavements, on playing fields and on kerbsides, where regular foot or tyre traffic quickly wore away dead grass and pummelled the soil to dust.
But long before rain finally came, nature was giving us a lesson in resilience. Not all of the gardens and spaces where grass was deceased were totally brown and bare; some familiar wild plants were still going strong: dandelions, plantains, thistles, ragwort, clover, daisies and docks all stayed green, albeit a bit frazzled at times, throughout our dust bowl summer, as grass and other lawn ‘weeds’ perished around them (it’s been a grim summer for those pursuing primped, weedless, spirit-level swards).
What do all these drought-beaters have in common? Roots that go deep into the soil, tapping into moisture beyond the reach of shallower-rooting species, possessing real bouncebackability.
They’re all still there, now greening up nicely after a drink – but something else, something quietly remarkable, is happening too: the grassless mini dust deserts are turning a verdant green. If you sink to your knees and look closely, taking a vole’s-eye view, you’ll understand why.
Each bare patch is now a seedbed packed with new life; in places, beneath just a span of my hand, there must be hundreds of tiny, germinating seedlings, of all different types. Some of these will be dormant seeds which have lain in wait for their chance, while some, such as airborne dandelion and thistle seeds, have been carried in on the breeze. Other low plants, such as clover, black medick, fox and cubs (Hieracium aurantiacum) and yarrow, will be spreading into new, grass-free territory (I even found purple bugle, Ajuga reptans ‘Atropurpurea’, edging its way into some weakened grass). Nature doesn’t do nothingness – it doesn’t leave soil bare for long before its healing powers kick in.
If this sounds like your lawn – all or parts of it – now is the time for resistance. Resist the urge to repair; resist the itch to scatter lawn seed; resist the desire for a monoculture reset. If you can hold out, think ahead, see beyond must-mow-every-fortnight greenery, you could try something else: letting your lawn go. You can seize this grassless moment, let nature take the lead, sit back and kiss your lawn, as you knew it, goodbye. It might feel a bitter parting, but the benefits it will bring will enrich both your garden and the pressured living world around us. This is some vital yet simple ‘nature recovery’ on your own doorstep.
Allowing more wild plants to replace your dead lawn won’t just increase the variety of different flowers you’ll get; it’ll also boost the numbers of insects and other wild life that visit your garden to forage and feed on them. Lawns never normally get a chance to flower (they’re wind-pollinated anyway), but a rewilded ‘lawn’, where grass no longer dominates, changes everything, adding a whole new slice of vibrant, drought-resilient life to your garden’s own unique ecosystem.
This might sound a leap too far, but you don’t have to rewild your drought-singed lawn all in one go. Any dead, grassless patches can be left to do their own thing; you can simply wait and see what comes along, while giving any remaining lawn areas their usual treatment. Plants germinating now will grow steadily over the autumn and winter, sinking roots deep, before some bloom next spring and summer. Just mow around them, leaving them as flower-rich islands. If you like the effect – and if future predicted droughts keep killing off your grass – let them expand their domain. If you enjoy big leaps, you can let go of your lawn completely, starting now, and enjoy its floral reawakening.
Another option is to kick-start a flower-rich lawn-cum-wildflower meadow by sowing wildflower seeds into any bare patches. It’s worth checking first what wild plants you already have, then researching a suitable seed mix, to suit whether your soil is light or heavy, in sun or shade, and so on. Aim to buy UK-sourced seeds from a reputable supplier – British Wildflower Seeds has an info-packed website.
If you’re game for waving your lawn – and all the time and resources it took – goodbye, you’ll likely be up for breaking some rules, too. Most advice is to never to sow wildflower seeds into an existing lawn, because grasses usually outwit attempts by wildflower seedlings to establish (sowing grass-weakening yellow rattle and planting young plug plants is usually a better option). But we’re talking about a post-drought lawnscape that’s dead, or patchy at best, offering us a blank, living canvas all ready to reinvent itself from the ashes of a tough, scorching summer. So why not go for it? Grab a spring-tine rake, yank out any remaining dead grass and thatch layer, churn the soil up – this will unearth more dormant seeds already there – sow your seeds and let the healing journey begin.
A free-spirited, rewilded lawn won’t nag you to cut it every fortnight. It will appreciate being cut – preferably with a nature-friendly scythe, but shears will do – once in late summer after most flowers have faded and scattered their seeds. Take the faded trimmings off and compost them, or use them as mulch; reducing the fertility of a wilder lawn gives the flowers the competitive edge over grass.
Drought will be a recurring feature of our fast-changing world, and adding wild resilience will be key to helping our gardens adapt. If your lawn’s been burnt out by this summer’s dryness, there’s never been a better time to allow it to heal naturally – by letting it go.
Words and images © John Walker
Find John on X @earthFgardener