The Schumer has hit the fan, you've made it safely to your retreat, everyone is inside, bedded down for the night, prayers are said in thanksgiving, and you all go to sleep. In the morning, as you look out the window, you realize your OPSEC is printed all over the lawn. A series of neat lines trampled across the tall, un-mown grass tells any observer about how many people are inside, and where they went to when they were out.
We take lawns for granted. My forested mountain retreat came with a very unusual volunteer lawn, one that taught me a lot of lessons. Most lawns either need to be mowed, which means the people living there have enough spare resources to do such things, not to mention the noise it makes doing it; or they are left un-mowed, in which case the long grass provides a record of where you went, when, and how often.
My volunteer lawn stays short, doesn't need to be mowed, grows in short clumps that let you place your feet between them on the ground so the grass is not disturbed. The clumps grow up about four to six inches, and then gracefully fall over. Even a sniper in a ghillie suit would find getting across a Hardy Fescue lawn unnoticed a challenge. There's no place to hide.
You don't even have to rake it, as by spring, the leaves are under the clumps, providing mulch. This miracle grass is called Hardy Fescue. It grows in partial shade, under pines and oaks in the forests, in a variety of rough soils, and needs no care.
If you get it, be sure to get plain Hardy Fescue seed, not the kind impregnated with endophytes. Endophytes help it grow, but can lead to disease and deformity in grazing stock. Plain Hardy Fescue makes good, safe grazing.
It's also real pretty, if you like a low, woodland-looking lawn. - Johan D.
