Gypsum sits where the sage benches lean down to the Eagle River, dry and bright and ringed by high country that holds its snow long after town has gone green. GH Daniels The Landscape Center works both halves of that year: mowing, trimming and edging through the long irrigated summers, then plowing and shoveling once Castle Peak goes white and cold pools in the valley bottom. A lawn at sixty-three hundred feet is an argument with the climate, and winning it looks like even color, a clean line along the walk, and grass that holds up under July sun. Then the calendar flips and the same care shows up as a cleared drive at first light. Different tools, one instinct — leave the place better than the weather left it.