Sod Off: How Big Lawn Is Killing Us (and What to Plant to Mitigate Climate Change)

I love a nice lawn. The stripes, the smell, the look of it after a fresh cut. I grew up in the South on Bermuda and St. Augustine turf, playing ball on fields crawling with chiggers and loaded with stickers that went straight through your socks. If you know, you know — bloodied ankles, red welts, and still we called it paradise.

When I was a kid, the lawn was my responsibility. Not a choice — a ritual, maybe punishment. Edge, trim, mow, sweep--with a real broom. Our mower itself was a relic: nylon pull handle worn to threads, gas dripping like blood down the driveway, a roar that rattled the windows and vibrated your arms. I hated it and loved it all at once. That’s what pride in a lawn looked like in America.

Decades later, I’m a permaculturist in western Washington. In my world, Big Lawn and monocultures are buried — sheet-mulched, solarized, their obituary written by Italian dandelion. In their place rise species unknown to suburbia: medlar, jostaberry, fat hen, pigface, yamaimo. Hardy, nourishing, unapologetically odd. The purists call for the lawn’s extinction. I share their passion, but not their extremism— I still believe grass has place and meaning, just not dominion.

The Scale of Grass

America is covered in grass. More than corn. More than wheat. More than orchards. Lawns are our largest irrigated crop, stretching across 40 million acres, and yet they feed no one. They guzzle billions of gallons of water daily, demand chemical fertilizers and fossil-fuel mowers, and radiate heat back into neighborhoods already strained by record summers.

Mow money, mow problems.

From Easy Fixes to Lasting Climate Change

Blame nature or blame man, climate change is undeniable. We’ve all got tools to slow it down. Start small: mow less, let the grass grow taller, switch to electric. Good steps, real impact.

But if you want something that leaves a mark — something fun, tangible, and lasting — carve out a piece of your lawn for a climate-friendly food forest. Even a small patch matters. And if your HOA complains, you’ll know you’re onto something.

What Balance Looks Like

Now imagine a different kind of yard: A modest patch of grass for recreation. Surrounded by fruit trees, berry shrubs, pollinator gardens, and drought-tolerant perennials. A landscape that cools itself, feeds its owners, supports biodiversity, and sequesters carbon — while still leaving room for play.

This is the food forest model, and it’s quietly spreading.

Unlike turf, which traps heat, a food forest is layered. Trees cast shade, shrubs slow wind, vines cool fences, and roots hold water in the soil. This creates what climatologists call a localized cooling island. One yard may shave a few degrees off the thermometer, but multiplied across millions, the effect becomes measurable citywide.

Studies show tree canopy alone can drop neighborhood temperatures by 2–9°F.Lawns, by contrast, require mowing that produces up to 5% of U.S. air pollution. Turf gulps down 9 billion gallons of water daily, much of it wasted.

Replacing even a fraction of lawns with food forests would be one of the largest decentralized climate actions ever taken by households.

Case Study: The Enchanted Food Forest

The transformation is already happening. On the campus of Orcas Christian School in Washington State, a ⅓-acre grass field once sat idle, mowed weekly and producing nothing but heat and expense. In 2018, it was converted into the Enchanted Food Forest, designed and donated by Pendragon Orchard and Vine with community support.

In the first two growing seasons, that small patch of land produced 11,400 pounds of organic fruits and vegetables for students and the surrounding community. It functions as a living classroom and pantry, integrating drought-tolerant species, medicinal herbs, and shade trees into a self-sustaining, low-maintenance system.

Students learn ecology by harvesting peaches instead of watching a mower. Families gather under trees where there was once only heat-reflecting grass. The space now provides food, resilience, and cooling — all without chemicals or constant upkeep.

Food forest with medlar, chestnut, goumi berry comfrey, and plenty of lawn

The Human Voice

“Lawns aren’t the enemy. They’re where kids play soccer, families picnic, and neighbors gather. The problem is when lawns take over every square foot, fueled by chemicals and constant mowing. That’s Big Lawn. In a balanced design, a lawn is a patch of recreation surrounded by food forests, shade trees, and pollinator habitat. You get the play space, but you also get cooling, resilience, and fresh food. That’s how we keep what we love and fix what’s broken.”— Pendragon Orchard and Vine

More Than Cooling

Food forests don’t just lower heat. They transform daily life:

• Food: Families harvest organic fruit, nuts, and herbs where they once mowed.

• Carbon: Food forests sequester carbon while lawns emit it through fertilizer and mowing.

• Resilience: In supply chain shocks, edible yards provide neighborhood food security.

• Health: Gardening doubles as exercise and lowers stress.

• Community: Neighbors trade produce, while families reconnect under “no-phone garden rules.”

• Biodiversity: Bees, birds, and soil life return.

This is climate action you can taste.

A Call for Balance on

The lawn was once a symbol of prosperity. Today, it’s a liability — a green façade masking ecological decline. Yet erasing lawns entirely isn’t the answer. Balance is. Keep the play space, surround it with food, shade, and pollinator habitat. Trade sterile turf for resilience you can taste.

Big Lawn is killing us. It’s time to Sod Off — to cut a strip of grass, plant something real, and grow the future right outside your door.

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