We enjoy gardening, but are not obsessive about it. With little direct sunlight, ours is mainly a yard of green, many shades of green. We tried to grow a traditional English garden for a few years, but without enough sunlight, it was a dud. Then we went into vegetable gardening. Another bust. I couldn’t even grow a radish or carrot. So we are green, many shades of green.
As for the lawn, my theory is that if it is green and not prickly, it’s probably not a weed. In any case, it’s lush, and without the benefit of Chemlawn or the like. The neighbors are baffled by that.
The garden part of the yard, which is extensive, is rich with trees, bushes and plants, some flowering, the names of which I remember vaguely if at all, but then the birds and squirrels don’t know them either, so I’m in good company. Anyway, my weed theory about the garden is that a weed is a perfectly fine plant growing where I don’t want it to grow. So we do a little weeding now and then to keep things from getting out of hand, and the result is that visitors ooh and ah over it as long as they don’t get down on their hands and knees to look too closely. The preventative is gin and tonics served on the patio. Beer drinkers don’t care much one way or the other.
And that’s what I know about gardening.