April in Bowie arrives all at once: one warm week, and the Bermuda wakes up green and hungry. Grass Girl works those first cuts of the year, when the dew still lies silver at eight in the morning and the clippings come off dark and sweet. A yard here asks for a straight edge along the drive, a clean line where grass meets gravel, and the trimmer run tight around the porch posts. That line is most of the point — it tells the road that somebody came and somebody cared. By the time the long Arkansas heat settles in, the pattern is set: mow, trim, edge, clear the walk, and on to the next.