East of town the Rocky Mountain Arsenal refuge runs out to the horizon in blue grama and bison and wind, a standing reminder of what grass does when nobody tends it. A.J. Landscaping works the other side of that line — the mown, the trimmed, the shaped, a yard held in order against a high dry plain that would honestly rather grow yucca. Mowing on rotation, edges cut true, trimmer run into every corner a mower can't reach, clippings cleared off the concrete. On a June morning the smell of a fresh cut carries three houses down the block. There is a real pleasure in standing at the curb afterward and finding every line running straight.