Cleveland, Ohio With the exception of a row of hostas around the foundation and a single blue spruce, the front yard of Peggy Spaeth and John Barber’s Cleveland Heights house was entirely grass when they moved in in 2018.
The grass and hostas are gone today, but the spruce remains. Native trees, bushes, and flowers have taken their place.
In the center of the yard is a tulip poplar that has already grown to a height of roughly forty feet, and there is a redbud close to the front porch.
Numerous native species, including St. John’s wort, woodland sunflower, prairie dropseed, and a low-lying juniper, give the once-traditional grassland more color and texture.
In addition to the regular plethora of bees, birds, and insects, the yard was visited by roughly 125 people two Sundays ago as part of the city’s annual Garden Walk to see what has grown to be a more typical sight across the city: a natural grass.
“The flow of people was continuous for about five hours,” Spaeth added. They traveled from Beachwood and Lyndhurst, Cleveland Heights and Shaker Heights, and even Chardon.
“And many young people who said, ‘We just bought our first house,'” she added.
It’s more proof that more and more homes in Northeast Ohio are choosing to produce more diversified, natural, and sustainable lawns instead of the conventional monoculture grass, which is created with chemicals and copious irrigation.
Janis Scalone, a retired English as a second language teacher who has been progressively incorporating native plants into her 4.5 acres in northern Portage County, stated, “I don’t even see it as a trend, I see it as a movement.”
According to her, trends tend to fade. This won’t go away, in my opinion.
Super-native
Scalone claimed that she was inspired by a presentation given online by Doug Tallamy, author of the 2007 book Bringing Nature Home: How You Can Sustain Wildlife with Native Plants.
According to her, he is a strong advocate for cutting back on your grass as much as possible.
The proprietors of Meadow City Native Plant Nursery, where Scalone purchases some of her plants, were similarly inspired by Tallamy’s books.
Situated near Interstate 90 in Collinwood, the nursery serves clients from as far afield as Erie, Pennsylvania.
According to Julie Slater, who founded the nursery in 2022 with Dave Tomashefski and Alyssa Zearley, people who are interested in native plants will travel great distances to find them. The three became acquainted through their affiliation with Ohio State University’s School of Environment of Natural Resources.
The nursery, which has been there since 2023, makes an effort to provide hyper-local client service.
For instance, Meadow City only sells common milkweed made from seeds that were locally obtained from wild plants that spontaneously evolved without human interference, even though common milkweed is abundant here in the South and up in Canada.
It creates more resilient plants that are acclimated to the local climate and soil, increasing the likelihood that they will draw the local insects and birds that eat them.
According to Slater, each plant has a range, and occasionally that range might be very large or very narrow.
As the main seed collector for the nursery, Slater walks to fields and farms wearing a vest with several pockets, always with permission, to collect the seeds that she then returns to the nursery.
Let the bugs come out.
The business plan is working. Since its founding, the nursery has increased its plant sales by 50% annually. As of 2025, it has discharged 17,000 plants, with a target of 25,000 by the end of the year, according to Slater.
Justine Rose, who lives in Cleveland’s Gordon Square neighborhood and has nearly 100 varieties of native plants outside her duplex, is one of its clients.
She likes to observe the insects they draw, such as the bumble bees and extremely cool wasps attracted to her Virginia mountain mint or the way her late figwort calms yellow jackets, causing them to become less agitated and more intent on visiting each flower.
She admitted, “I’m guilty of talking so much about native plants to everyone.” Rose gave away a free native plant to everyone who visited GardenWalk Cleveland on July 13.
Native plants aid the ecosystem by stabilizing the soil, lowering rainwater runoff into sewers, and drawing small animals.
Keeping things under control
Sensing a conflict between the old and the modern, local politicians have taken notice of the growing popularity of native flora and natural lawns.
Cleveland Heights has shown a great deal of acceptance, and its neighbors are also looking into ways they can support the cause.
The use of natural landscapes has been longer to gain traction in Shaker Heights, a more prim and tidy neighborhood. However, longstanding Shaker Heights Councilwoman Nancy Moore stated that in certain cases, the traditional Shaker landscape—a grass lawn surrounded by decorative bushes and plants surrounding the house’s foundation—is gradually giving way to more organic displays.
The city wishes to provide assistance. In order to ensure that what is produced is deliberate rather than careless, it is currently implementing a legally sound standard that will direct homes during their transition, according to Moore.
“You’re going to have to maintain it to a certain standard regardless of the type of landscaping chosen,” she said.
Additionally, University Heights has taken note and intends to hold public hearings regarding possible modifications to its code.
Sheri Sax, a councilwoman, expressed uncertainty about the extent of the natural lawn movement’s popularity in her city and whether it is limited to a noisy minority. However, elected authorities want to know.
“We’re really going through it very carefully and we’re taking it very seriously because it does affect every single resident,” she said.
However, Spaeth and Barber will tell you that it affects more than simply the locals. Preventing what Spaeth refers to as an insect apocalypse requires restoring natural habitat.
She said, “Oh, there are no insects now.” I mean, years ago, I had to pull over and wipe my windshield on the highway because I couldn’t see. They are the backbone of our entire ecology, therefore that’s not good.
