Grass (no double meaning) does not come easy in the Southwest. It is hard to grow grass in Arizona. I don’t know how the golf courses do it. They are grooming the most perfect carpet grass. Only during a short fall intermission, they raze the green splendor to spread mulch for winter seeding.
Here I am with yet another bald spot in my greens. Water, fertilize, aerate, pray–it never seems to convince all the areas. Even Bermuda avoids some locations. I have never been able to figure it out.
I also have a “wild” grass, kinda rough, pokey slowly spreading in my small meadow. I wished it would take over the naked turf. But it’s not happening, or only very slowly.
In the meantime, I am sowing Bermuda in the spring and Bluegrass in the fall. That is what my fall mission looked like:
I better had the area covered because pigeons and other birds like to stir up any morsels. Ooh, I staked the net precisely to the ground. Only that there was one little crack open. An intelligent pigeon found exactly that spot. Never mind perfection. I chased the pigeon out and fixed the last little hole.
So far so good. The bluegrass actually filled in quite nice, but it never makes it through the summer. And the Bermuda does not want go there either.
Perhaps the shadow patterns have something to do with it. Where there is no shadow, the Arizona sun burns holes into such outlandish vegetation as grass.