During the early part of my childhood, my parents and I lived in the suburbs. We had a nice two story house with an average-sized yard. We had a vegetable garden and some very pretty flower beds, but the bulk of the landscape was devoted to lawn. Then, when I was around 8 years old, my parents began the great project that became the home I now live in with my family today. For a blissful few years, we had the most fascinating (especially for a child) yard full of tree stumps, dirt/stone piles, and leaves. But gradually all that wildness gave way to the more civilized lawn of grass.
I don't completely hate grass. In certain contexts it can be quite appealing, especially when it is perfectly maintained. But in the particular context of my yard, I can unequivocally state that I hate grass. I confess that mine is far from immaculate. It is full of crabgrass, clover, wild strawberries, and other assorted weeds. But it's grass enough to require mowing.
A yard full of ivy like this is another little fantasy I cherish. Notice the continuing no-mowing theme. It's not as nice for walking on as moss, I suppose, but it's more durable and will tolerate the full sun better. I do have some nice ivies; I'm just not sure how to turn them into this kind of a solid mass.
And while mowing is a big turnoff for me, avoiding it is not my only motivation in my dreams of a grass-free yard. Primarily I'm simply drawn to the look of something a little more untamed--a little less cultivated looking--in my surroundings. Not that anyone could accuse me of having a cultivated looking yard. I guess what I'm trying to say is, don't be surprised if you see me in front of my house with a large bottle of Round-Up.