Morning over Jacksonville comes flat and wide, the light spilling across the Bayou Meto bottoms before the first jet climbs out over the base. Arkansas Lawn keeps to that hour, when the dew still weighs the Bermuda down and a mower leaves a dark, even stripe behind it. Yards here run generous and open, so the cut has to hold end to end, with the trimmer tight along walks and drive aprons and the clippings blown back off the concrete. By afternoon the heat stands still over the Highway 67 corridor and the work is already done, the lawn holding its lines. It is plain work, and there is a real pleasure in driving past a place you cut and finding it still square a week later.