A Conversation about Clover and Thyme

It's July. The days have already begun to get shorter. There is no accompanying decrease to the heat or the rain. I am beginning to resent the weather, which, frankly happens about this time every year. So, other than record-breaking statistics, is normal. The rain has been abnormal so far, though, which has made the lawn a whole new universe. Areas that would have looked like bald patches because the grass grew so sparsely are now as lush and green as the rest of the lawn. Constellations of white clover are sprinkled everywhere. Mowing has become a competetive sport, not against other homeowners but against the next deluge. Victory is declared when I manage to mow the evening before a full day of rain. I sulk when I miss the window of opportunity, and the clover is a badge of failure. But clover is no villain. It's a pollinator supreme, nourishing millions of insects and helping them spread pollen for their neighboring flowering plants. There is a whole list of benefits to the presence of white clover in a lawn or, for that matter, garden. The roots help aerate the soil and have little nodules that retrieve nitrogen and deposit it in the soil, improving the fertility. Clover can redeem areas threatened with erosion with their network of roots. Many farmers and ecologists buy bags of the seed to do all this intentionally. I get it for free. When I mow the lawn, I trim off all the flower heads and get a temporary golf course effect of uninterrupted emerald green. I will admit, I am partial to the clover galaxy. 

When I mow, I monitor the whole lawnscape. I keep an eye out for ant hills developing (rare) and patches of wild thyme. The thyme is developing colonies of tiny round leaved plants right now. A thyme lawn is aspired to among many who love the idea of an herbal expanse of purple. In my experience, in the Catskill wilderness, a totally thyme lawn is unrealistic. It is not possible to keep grasses from invading, not to mention the clover we were just describing. Thyme lawns can be beautiful in very small gardens and among hardscape details, where constant attention is possible. The compromise is what I see in many of the yards in my neighborhood. The dry areas fill up with thyme, which spreads to the perimeter of the dry area. Nothing much infiltrates there because of the thyme's tolerance for drought. Now, any plant will appreciate a manageable surplus of water. Thyme is no exception. As I ride over the clumps of thyme, I admire the lush growth it is making this year. It is beginning to show flower buds, and soon, on a hot day, there will be scattered blotches of purple adorning the green of the lawn. The clover seems to step back briefly to give the thyme a moment of glory. I spend more time outside with my camera than I ought to trying to capture the beauty. I have yet to succeed. Like clover, thyme is credited with many virtues, but more in the herbal uses than soil amendment. They make good neighbors, to each other and to the environment. And to me. There's even a thing called a “bee lawn” that combines both of these with certain low growing wildflowers. That's what I have and it planted itself! Here's a link: https://extension.umn.edu/landscape-design/planting-and-maintaining-bee-lawn.