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Turf is out. Native grasses are in. Here are 4 lush low-water options

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Turf is out. Native grasses are in. Here are 4 lush low-water options

Tearing out your lawn can be a tough decision, especially if you have children or dogs who love to roll and play.

Or — no judgment here — maybe you just enjoy the visual serenity of a swath of green in a region where the hills go brown in the summer.

The good news is there are low-water, lushly green native lawn alternatives to tall fescue, the most popular water-guzzling king of turf grasses. But here’s the truth about these other options:

“There isn’t anything out there, native or exotic, that is going to stay green all year round in Southern California without some water,” said horticulturist Carol Bornstein, native plant guru and author of two definitive books about California landscaping, including “Reimagining the California Lawn.”

Christie Mahr casts a shadow across a patch of Kurapia groundcover in the backyard of her Ventura home.

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(Michael Owen Baker / For The Times)

The trick is understanding that less is more when it comes to watering any lawn, native grasses or no, she said.

“There is no lawn in Southern California that needs water every day, even in a super hot, dry microclimate,” she said, “You want to wean your lawn off that kind of life support by watering less often and more deeply — basically water when it needs it.”

Unfortunately many lawn owners haven’t gotten this message, said Jim Blair, a turfgrass specialist who oversees UC Riverside’s Turfgrass Research program. Most people are still overwatering their traditional turf lawns with frequent short sessions that encourage shallow, easily dried-out roots. And when they change over to native grass lawns, they don’t change their watering patterns, Blair said, ending up with diseased or dead native lawns due to overwatering.

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Native grasses usually require less water than traditional turf lawns because their roots grow much deeper — up to 10 feet deep in some cases — allowing them to find water stored in the ground and weather longer periods of drought.

They’ve also adapted by going dormant during certain parts of the year, like Bermuda, a warm-season grass, which does fine in hot summer months but turns brown during the winter.

For instance Blue grama (Bouteloua gracilis) is one of the native grasses Bornstein favors for lawns. It does go dormant in the winter, she said, “with a blond coloration which I think is quite beautiful. But trying to keep it green all year is challenging because too much water will kill them” by rotting the roots.

So that’s another lesson about native grasses — your expectations will have to change along with your irrigation techniques, because turf lawns and native grass lawns aren’t interchangeable, said Baird.

John Ellis’ yard features his lawn of native fescue grasses, and an agave ‘blue glow’ plant.

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(Michael Owen Baker / For The Times)

John Ellis lays in his lawn, surrounded by three kinds of native fescue grasses.

(Michael Owen Baker / For The Times)

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Traditional turf grasses like tall fescue and Bermuda were developed for two purposes — “to withstand persistent low mowing and regular traffic,” Baird said. If that’s what you want, Baird said there is a Bermuda hybrid on the market, developed in Georgia called TifTuf that has the same low-water needs as native grasses.

But if you’re sick of mowing (or paying someone else to do it), or you just want to reduce water use while creating habitat for local pollinators, birds and other creatures, then native grasses can give you the (mostly) green you crave with a lot less effort and expenses.

These will not be the flat carpet lawns of yore — although Kurapia lawns come close, at least from a distance. Native bent grass (Agrostis pallens) or native fescues like Festuca rubra grow in graceful mounding swirls and tufts that catch the light like glistening swells on a lake. They are beautiful to behold but not so easy to run through.

And unless you plant sod, which is available with some native grasses or grass mixes, it can take a while for the grasses to knit together into what we think of as a traditional lawn.

That’s one of many reasons you should consider reducing the dimensions of your old turf lawn when you decide to plant a new lawn with native grasses. Create planting beds in part of the old lawn area to grow food for your family and/or support pollinators, birds and other local wildlife by planting native trees, shrubs and flowers.

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Good drainage is critical to maintaining the health of native lawns, said Briana Lyon of California Wild Gardens in Pasadena, an online-only nursery whose products include native grass lawns. Some native wetland grasses like California Meadow Barley (Hordeum brachyantherum ssp. californicum) can live for a short time in standing water, but these are best used to line bioswales where you want to clean rainwater running off from roofs or streets.

Most native grasses prefer dry conditions and full sun. Some, like the fescues, can do well in shade, but Lyon recommends prepping the soil by tilling the top soil 4 to 6 inches deep and adding a mixture of compost and a drainage medium like decomposed granite or sand to encourage good drainage, especially if the ground previously had standing water during heavy rains.

The Kurapia groundcover, juxtaposed with concrete, in the backyard of Ray and Christie Mahr’s home.

(Michael Owen Baker / For The Times)

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A corner of John Ellis’ fescue grass lawn.

(Michael Owen Baker / For The Times)

You don’t want to add too many amendments like compost or worm castings, however. “You don’t want to discourage the roots from doing a deep exploration by staying with the yummy stuff on top,” she said.

Weeds are also a problem, especially when the native grasses are trying to get established. Kurapia and some of the grasses can eventually grow dense enough to crowd out most weeds, as long as the weeds don’t get a foothold and crowd the natives out first, so expect to do some regular weed patrols the first year to keep unwanted plants away.

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Finally, understand that the type of native grass you choose really depends on how you plan to use the space. If you want a relatively flat, easy-care space where pets and children can frolic then Kurapia may be your best choice. But if your biggest interest is creating an ornamental lawn that’s a feast for the eyes, then look towards the sculptural, undulating bent grasses or fescues.

Here’s a list of some of the more popular native grasses to consider, with this note too: Some of these grasses are native to other parts of North America too, or even other countries, in addition to California, so if in doubt, check the botanical names, consult with guides like Bornstein’s books or talk to native plant experts at the Theodore Payne Foundation, Tree of Life Nursery, the California Botanic Garden in Claremont or the Santa Barbara Botanic Garden.

A close up view of Kurapia groundcover at Christie and Ray Mahr’s Ventura home.

(Michael Owen Baker / For The Times)

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1. Kurapia

People use lots of exclamation points when they talk about Kurapia, which, for the record, isn’t a grass at all. It’s a sterile patented hybrid of a native broadleaf groundcover from the verbena family commonly known as frog fruit or lippia (Phyla nodiflora), named after the Japanese hybridizer, Utsunomiya University professor Hitoshi Kuramochi, and the origin plant, lippia. Robert Sjoquist of Soils Solutions in Ventura can’t sing its praises high enough. Sjoquist is a distributor who sells native grasses all over Southern California, but Kurapia is one of his favorites, he said, because it spreads like a carpet with pretty clover-like flowers, requires almost no water or maintenance to stay beautifully green, quickly stabilizes hillsides and slopes and helps prevent wildfire damage by snuffing out embers as they fall.

It also spreads quickly and is relatively easy to propagate, which is why the breeder, Kurapia Inc., carefully guards its latest strains, Kurapia New White and Kurapia Pink (named for the color of its flowers). These new strains can only be purchased online, through the company, said senior manager Lawrence Ziese. They’re only available in plug form now, although the company hopes to have a sod version available soon. A flat of 72 plugs, which covers roughly 97 square feet, costs $173 for the “new white” color and $187 for the pink.

Ziese said the new versions grow more densely than the company’s first offering, known as Kurapia S1, which is grown in 2-by-5-foot sod sections by Delta Bluegrass in Stockton and delivered by truck. (West Coast Turf of Palm Desert also sells Kurapia S1 sod, but is currently out of stock.) Sod is more expensive — about $315 to $340 to cover roughly 100 square feet — but you also get an established lawn in less than half the time, said Sjoquist.

Christie and Ray Mahr stand with their dogs Maggie, front, and Colt on the Kurapia groundcover in their backyard.

(Michael Owen Baker / For The Times)

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“It looks so good it almost looks like fake grass because of how uniform and low growing it is,” said Lyon. It thrives in poor soils, even sand and salty soils, as long as it has good drainage, she said. It’s important to keep it weeded in the beginning, until it becomes established.

Christie and Ray Mahr of Ventura say they and their dogs love the 3-year-old Kurapia lawn in their backyard. They planted the lawn themselves from plugs — a job that took just a couple hours, Christie said — and it took some maintenance the first few months to keep weeds from resprouting. But she and Ray say that’s nothing compared to the work that went in to mowing and watering the Marathon turf lawn they had before. Now they rarely water the lawn. It seems to get enough water from the drip lines for trees and other plants.

They use hand clippers to keep tendrils from growing beyond the lawn boundaries and Ray mows just once or twice a year to remove the flowers that come in the spring to early summer. “They most definitely brings bees to your garden,” Christie said. “I won’t even come out here and walk unless I’ve got tennis shoes on because otherwise you know you’re going to step on a bee or a butterfly.”

Lippia, used as an alternative to traditional lawn, in Redlands.

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(Brian Chau)

2. Frog fruit, a.k.a. lippia (Phyla nodiflora)

The parent of Kurapia is endemic to California and many other parts of the world, including Texas and the southeastern coast of the United States. Like Kurapia, it needs very little water and thrives in heat. Southern California landscape designers looked into lippia as a lawn replacement in the 1970s, Lyon said, but quickly abandoned the idea “because it seeded so aggressively,” spreading into neighboring yards or planting areas where it wasn’t wanted.

But Brian Chau of Redlands said he hasn’t really seen that problem in his front yard. Chau usually blogs about fishing, but he created a YouTube video to show off his lush lippia lawn, which he planted in 2021. He first tore out his traditional lawn and planted yarrow, which didn’t do very well, so he tilled the yard again, removing the yarrow (which still sprouts up now and again) and planted lippia. Chau said he chose lippia rather than Kurapia because it was a “fraction of the cost” to purchase — $15 for a flat of roughly 50 plugs at the time, versus around $60 for Kurapia, he said.

He buried a drip irrigation system in his yard, which he doesn’t use at all during the cooler months, and turns on for just a few minutes two or three times a week during the hottest part of summer to keep his lawn watered. “It’s just a burst of water during those times, but now I’m trying to do it just once a week for a longer period, just to experiment.”

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The lawn grows more leggy and less vigorously in shady parts of his yard, and like Kurapia, its flowers are a huge draw for bees and other pollinators, Chau said. “So if you’re allergic or terrified of bees, this lawn isn’t for you, but if you don’t mind bees, the lippia is great for attracting pollinators to our fruit trees and native plants.”

Chau said his son plays on the lawn regularly. “He runs around and beats the lawn down, but it doesn’t complain too much,” he said. “It always bounces back, but it would be detrimental to have an animal rooting around in it.” He uses hand clippers to trim back the plants trying to grow outside the lawn borders, and replants those cuttings to fill in areas that are looking thin. The cuttings “root very easily in water or moist soil,” he said, “so I don’t have to buy flats anymore.”

Native bent grass at the Carpenteria Seaside Park.

(Jeanette Marantos / Los Angeles Times)

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3. Native bent grass (Agrostis pallens)

If you love the look of a wild meadow-like lawn, native bent grass is a beautiful and fairly durable choice. Lyon said bent grass makes one of the most pet and kid friendly native grass lawns.

The city of Carpenteria planted a bent grass lawn from seed when it created Seaside Park near the library in 2014, and it’s been a handsome, easy-care choice that requires little water, said Tiffany Smith, the city’s parks and facilities maintenance supervisor.

“We mow it probably every three months at the most, so three or four times a year, and the water savings are huge. We water with regular lawn sprinklers once a week in the summer for 20 minutes or so, just enough to get the water down 2 inches,” she said. “And we’ve had almost no weeds. Every once in a while a broad leaf weed comes up and we just pull it. … We love it.”

She said they mow the lawn down to about 3 inches tall, but it grows back quickly into luxuriant waves.

Carpenteria rarely sees summer temperatures much higher than 90, but in the hottest months the lawn never seems stressed — even after people have been sitting in it. It only gets light foot traffic, Smith said, but the city is so pleased with its performance after 10 years that it’s considering whether to remove the turf lawn around the library and replant with bent grass to create a uniform look.

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“I bet we could easily cut our water use by two thirds,” she said.

Three native fescue grasses create a lush green meadow effect in the front yard of John Ellis’ Westlake Village home.

(Michael Owen Baker / For The Times)

4. Native fescues (Festucas)

If you want a lush, light-catching lawn to gaze upon, native fescues are one of your best bets, especially in a shady area, said Lyon.

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Delta Bluegrass makes a mow-free sod mix of three native fescues — Idaho fescue (Festuca idahoensis), Molate fescue (Festuca rubra) and Western Mokelumne fescue (Festuca occidentalis) that requires very little care, said John Ellis, who replaced the 1,000-square-foot turf lawn outside his Westlake Village home with mow-free fescues in December 2022.

His children are grown and no pets play on the lawn out front, so it doesn’t get much traffic, Ellis said, “but I will tell you that every kid or dog that comes by rolls around the grass. They touch it and they’re walking in it.”

Too much traffic isn’t great for the fescues, however, said Lyon, because the fescues are probably the least drought tolerant of the native grasses, and incompatible with pets. “It kills patches of the lawn if a dog pees on it.”

But if you’re looking for sculptural beauty, this is the lawn for you. Ellis figures his irrigation costs have dropped by 60%, even in his area near Thousand Oaks where temperatures can easily hover around 100 degrees during the summer. He bought the sod through Soils Solutions and hired Robert Olsen of Goldenstate Landscapes in Camarillo to remove the old lawn and install a copper-lined drip irrigation system on a smart system that adjusts watering based on moisture in the ground. All told, he figures he spent $9,000 on the project, and is delighted with the results.

John Ellis’ lawn of native fescue grass, left, by his neighbor’s lawn, right.

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(Michael Owen Baker / For The Times)

His biggest comment from neighbors is wondering if he plans to mow his lawn, Ellis said, but he likes the look of the grass flopping over. His work included installing a 12-inch barrier between his yard and his neighbor’s to ensure his grasses didn’t mingle with theirs, but the difference in color is startling. His neighbors’ lawns are both green and thick, but they look pale in comparison to his deep green growth.

Ellis said he’s had some issues with tendrils of his old Bermuda grass trying to grow through. But most weeds have been smothered, and he’s been able to pull out any Bermuda grasses he finds. “You have to stay on top of it,” he said, “but so far this has been the best choice for us.”

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Mundane, magic, maybe both — a new book explores ‘The Writer’s Room’

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Mundane, magic, maybe both — a new book explores ‘The Writer’s Room’

There’s a three-story house in Baltimore that looks a bit imposing. You walk up the stone steps before even getting up to the porch, and then you enter the door and you’re greeted with a glass case of literary awards. It’s The Clifton House, formerly home of Lucille Clifton.

The National Book Award-winning poet lived there with her husband, Fred, starting in 1967 until the bank foreclosed on the house in 1980. Clifton’s daughter, Sidney Clifton, has since revived the house and turned it into a cultural hub, hosting artists, readings, workshops and more. But even during a February visit, in the mid-afternoon with no organized events on, the house feels full.

The corner of Lucille Clifton's bedroom, where she would wake up and write in the mornings

The corner of Lucille Clifton’s bedroom, where she would wake up and write in the mornings

Andrew Limbong/NPR


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Andrew Limbong/NPR

“There’s a presence here,” Clifton House Executive Director Joël Díaz told me. “There’s a presence here that sits at attention.”

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Sometimes, rooms where famous writers worked can be places of ineffable magic. Other times, they can just be rooms.

The Writer’s Room: The Hidden Worlds That Shape the Books We Love

Princeton University Press

Katie da Cunha Lewin is the author of the new book, The Writer’s Room: The Hidden Worlds That Shape the Books We Love, which explores the appeal of these rooms. Lewin is a big Virginia Woolf fan, and the very first place Lewin visited working on the book was Monk’s House — Woolf’s summer home in Sussex, England. On the way there, there were dreams of seeing Woolf’s desk, of retracing Woolf’s steps and imagining what her creative process would feel like. It turned out to be a bit of a disappointment for Lewin — everything interesting was behind glass, she said. Still, in the book Lewin writes about how she took a picture of the room and saved it on her phone, going back to check it and re-check it, “in the hope it would allow me some of its magic.”

Let’s be real, writing is a little boring. Unlike a band on fire in the recording studio, or a painter possessed in their studio, the visual image of a writer sitting at a desk click-clacking away at a keyboard or scribbling on a piece of paper isn’t particularly exciting. And yet, the myth of the writer’s room continues to enrapture us. You can head to Massachusetts to see where Louisa May Alcott wrote Little Women. Or go down to Florida to visit the home of Zora Neale Hurston. Or book a stay at the Scott & Zelda Fitzgerald Museum in Alabama, where the famous couple lived for a time. But what, exactly, is the draw?

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Lewin said in an interview that whenever she was at a book event or an author reading, an audience question about the writer’s writing space came up. And yes, some of this is basic fan-driven curiosity. But also “it started to occur to me that it was a central mystery about writing, as if writing is a magic thing that just happens rather than actually labor,” she said.

In a lot of ways, the book is a debunking of the myths we’re presented about writers in their rooms. She writes about the types of writers who couldn’t lock themselves in an office for hours on end, and instead had to find moments in-between to work on their art. She covers the writers who make a big show of their rooms, as a way to seem more writerly. She writes about writers who have had their homes and rooms preserved, versus the ones whose rooms have been lost to time and new real estate developments. The central argument of the book is that there is no magic formula to writing — that there is no daily to-do list to follow, no just-right office chair to buy in order to become a writer. You just have to write.

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Bruce Johnston Retiring From The Beach Boys After 61 Years

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Bruce Johnston Retiring From The Beach Boys After 61 Years

Bruce Johnston
I’m Riding My Last Wave With The Beach Boys

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On the brink of death, a woman is saved by a stranger and his family

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On the brink of death, a woman is saved by a stranger and his family

In 1982, Jean Muenchrath was injured in a mountaineering accident and on the brink of death when a stranger and his family went out of their way to save her life.

Jean Muenchrath


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Jean Muenchrath

In early May 1982, Jean Muenchrath and her boyfriend set out on a mountaineering trip in the Sierra Nevada, a mountain range in California. They had done many backcountry trips in the area before, so the terrain was somewhat familiar to both of them. But after they reached one of the summits, a violent storm swept in. It began to snow heavily, and soon the pair was engulfed in a blizzard, with thunder and lightning reverberating around them.

“Getting struck and killed by lightning was a real possibility since we were the highest thing around for miles and lightning was striking all around us,” Muenchrath said.

To reach safer ground, they decided to abandon their plan of taking a trail back. Instead, using their ice axes, they climbed down the face of the mountain through steep and icy snow chutes.

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They were both skilled at this type of descent, but at one particularly difficult part of the route, Muenchrath slipped and tumbled over 100 feet down the rocky mountain face. She barely survived the fall and suffered life-threatening injuries.

This was before cellular or satellite phones, so calling for help wasn’t an option. The couple was forced to hike through deep snow back to the trailhead. Once they arrived, Muenchrath collapsed in the parking lot. It had been five days since she’d fallen.

 ”My clothes were bloody. I had multiple fractures in my spine and pelvis, a head injury and gangrene from a deep wound,” Muenchrath said.

Not long after they reached the trailhead parking lot, a car pulled in. A man was driving, with his wife in the passenger seat and their baby in the back. As soon as the man saw Muenchrath’s condition, he ran over to help.

 ”He gently stroked my head, and he held my face [and] reassured me by saying something like, ‘You’re going to be OK now. I’ll be right back to get you,’” Muenchrath remembered.

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For the first time in days, her panic began to lift.

“My unsung hero gave me hope that I’d reach a hospital and I’d survive. He took away my fears.”

Within a few minutes, the man had unpacked his car. His wife agreed to stay back in the parking lot with their baby in order to make room for Muenchrath, her boyfriend and their backpacks.

The man drove them to a nearby town so that the couple could get medical treatment.

“I remember looking into the eyes of my unsung hero as he carried me into the emergency room in Lone Pine, California. I was so weak, I couldn’t find the words to express the gratitude I felt in my heart.”

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The gratitude she felt that day only grew. Now, nearly 45 years later, she still thinks about the man and his family.

 ”He gave me the gift of allowing me to live my life and my dreams,” Muenchrath said.

At some point along the way, the man gave Muenchrath his contact information. But in the chaos of the day, she lost it and has never been able to find him.

 ”If I knew where my unsung hero was today, I would fly across the country to meet him again. I’d hug him, buy him a meal and tell him how much he continues to mean to me by saving my life. Wherever you are, I say thank you from the depths of my being.”

My Unsung Hero is also a podcast — new episodes are released every Tuesday. To share the story of your unsung hero with the Hidden Brain team, record a voice memo on your phone and send it to myunsunghero@hiddenbrain.org.

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