If I were a true-to-form yard owner, I would be out watering, because it hasn't rained in four weeks. But I've screwed down the sprinkler heads and don't mow San Augustine grass that came with the property as required by our homeowners association. Once in a while I do water by hand at dawn to keep the wild soil-holders alive, for they protect the hillside from erosion. I don't use chemical biocides or fertilizers, but I do throw coffee grounds out the front door along with spent bouquets, leaves, and limbs from walks, driveway, and deck. However, my yard-woods is hidden from folks who might object to the wild look.
Why put organic debris in the trash to fertilize a landfill that can't use it and then buy chemical fertilizer for a yard? Besides recycling nutrients, leaf mulch insulates, providing benefits that one doesn't have with disintegrating chemicals. Twigs and sticks hold leaves in place on my hillside. Furthermore, this wild yard-woods would be less a daily delight without its burrowing insects, earthworms, slugs, snails, and their snake, skunk, and armadillo predators, all dependent on natural ground cover. And my house guests from afar would be disappointed, for they all ask to see armadillos.
Perhaps the fertilize-water-cut-and-bag-grass routine displays dominance and signals social status. The suburban lawn could be a medieval mindset leftover from the time when European rulers had closely cropped fields, because they had large grazing herds that revealed their wealth and status. Perhaps the fields became lawns and gardens that showed off castles and mansions and were emulated by house owners who could afford to do so. Another theory, more believable to me, is our ancestral need to expose and deter natural predators and human enemies by surrounding ourselves with open lands instead of wooded hiding places.