The Spring Reset: Lawn and Garden

It was just last weekend that the historic Blizzard of 2026 buried our backyard under nearly three feet of snow. And yet yesterday, I saw a ladybug on the sliding doors. This morning, the sun was bright and birds were singing outside my window. Mother Nature seems to whisper, Spring is right around the corner.

In case you missed it, I mentioned my husband’s love for our lawn in A Home Run With Color: Designing a Cohesive Garden Palette. He tried out for two professional baseball teams when he was younger, so to him, the wide stretch of grass that is our lawn is not “wasted space.” It’s his Field of Dreams. His sacred space.

And I get it. In a way, it is.

To me, the lawn is where the eye can rest for a second before moving on. The quiet pause between the colors, movement, and textures of the garden beds. The space that lets everything else shine.

It asks very little—holding the light in late afternoon, giving our chihuahua room to play, and creating a space for family and friends to gather.

At this time of year, it’s not asking for much.

 

Mid-March in the Northeast. While the stylist in me wants to edge the beds immediately, the gardener in me says, “Wait. It’s still too wet.” Photo by Parsley & Petal

March: Time to Observe

March is not a mowing month here.

The ground is still cold and not quite ready to be disturbed. Beneath the surface—and just above it—things are still waking. I’ve learned not to rush that.

Instead, I walk the lawn once it has thawed, avoiding muddy spots and trying not to compact the soil.

I notice where water lingers. Where the grass feels thin. Where winter has left its frostbitten marks. These notes guide what I’ll address later—nothing is random.

If there’s debris, I’ll clear it gently so the grass—or anything underneath—can breathe and reach the sun. But mostly, I leave things as they are, especially with pollinators still resting.

We send the mower in for a tune-up (sharp blades matter), and then we wait.

This is a noticing month, not a doing month.

Early April: Time for Pre-Emergent

By early April, something shifts.

The soil begins to warm—slowly, but enough.

I apply pre-emergent when soil temperatures hold between 50–55° for several consecutive days. Around here, that tends to fall in early April, give or take.

You can feel when it’s close, usually when the forsythia starts to bloom.

On Mowing

I don’t rush the first cut.

I like to give pollinators a chance to wake up and the lawn time to actually start growing.

By the time my husband mows, it’s ready. The ground has dried, the blades have lengthened, and the season has settled in.

That usually means late April, sometimes early May.

We mow on the highest setting and keep it there. I’d rather ease into the season than force it.

On Garden Clean-Up

While the lawn is finding its rhythm, the garden begins to stir.

I cut back what’s clearly done. I leave anything I’m unsure about.

Edges get a light pass, just enough to bring things back into place.

Mostly, I’m just looking.

Neighbors have asked me for a lawn routine for years. This is just the first part—simplified.

Not a perfect system. But a simple one.

By the time everything fills in, it already feels like it belongs there.

Structure first. Blooms follow.

If you’re wondering how you can start planning for a great lawn and garden this spring, I’d begin with The Seasonal Edit: March/April—An Early Spring Garden Checklist.

The Seasonal Edit

The Seasonal Edit is a recurring, design-forward checklist drawn from my own garden—what’s emerging, what can wait, and what deserves attention now. Practical tasks. Clear structure. Timed to the season as it unfolds.


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The Seasonal Edit: March/April — Early Spring Garden Checklist

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The Seasonal Edit: A Blizzard Garden Checklist