I love wildlife but I’m fighting against No Mow May

It was Saturday morning on May 2 when he mowed the lawn. Nothing unusual there – except it’s May – the month when we are not supposed to mow at all.

The annual No Mow May campaign, led by wildlife charity Plantlife, urges people to leave their mowers in the shed during May to allow grasses and wildflowers to flourish. I’m all for that – I will do almost anything to encourage nature. We’ve got wild areas all around the garden, birds nesting under our roof tiles, squirrels with their own feeding station, a wildlife pond, insect houses – you name it. But the lawn is another matter.

I like lawn to be lawn. Lush and green, preferably with stripes. Watching the Masters golf tournament at Augusta last month I stared longingly at the pristine, vibrant green acres. “Why can’t we have grass like that?” I asked my husband, before spending at least an hour Googling ‘lawn care’.

That resulted in a trip to Screwfix where I bought a raker and scarifier at a bargain price, with good reviews all round. After the mow it was put to use, de-mossing and raking. Then, on bank holiday Monday, we spiked it and scattered sharp sand before re-seeding.

I stare enviously at golf courses. (Image: Pixabay)

I worried for my sanity, after getting excited in shops, when faced with boxes covered in pictures of perfect lawns, accompanied by words such as ‘superior’, ‘thicker’ and ‘stunning’. Did I need Miracle-Gro? Of course. What about Speedy Speed? Definitely. Or Pure Green? By the time we left I felt quite light-headed.

Twenty years ago, before we moved to a house with a garden, I would have scoffed had anyone said I would become a lawn-obsessive. It’s something I have long associated with older men. My dad used to have conversations with passers-by about what setting he had the lawn mower on to keep his grass looking good. Now I am having similar chats with my neighbours.

One chap who lives nearby recently led me round the back of his house to reveal the most beautiful swathe of verdant grass. My jaw dropped. “What do you do to get this?” I asked, to be told it’s in the hands of professionals. I couldn’t wait to tell my husband. “Do you think we should get people in?” I asked him. He didn’t reply.

He isn’t on the same page as me regarding our lawn. He would be perfectly happy letting moss take over. “I like moss, and it’s a natural process,” he says. That’s all well and good, but I don’t want a moist, spongy, squelchy surface underfoot every time I walk across the grass, and aside from that, I genuinely like grass. I like the feel of it, it’s the perfect base on which to spread a rug or set up a picnic table. Moss isn’t.

So lawn it is, and it needed a cut. It’s not that I have completely disregarded No Mow May. Last year, against my wishes, we embraced it. We left the lawn unmown until June. When we finally got the mower out, it resembled the Serengeti. We needed a scythe. I also fretted about frogs and toads being hidden in the longer grass and mown over. With short grass at least we can see small creatures.

With its scarified patches, our lawn doesn’t look great at the moment, but I am sure it will be worth the effort and become the showpiece garden I dream of. I do worry for my sanity, however.