Morning comes slowly to the Greenland meadow, fog sitting low along Plum Creek until the sun clears the ridge and burns it off. MowJo is out in that hour, when the grass is still cool and cuts clean. The work is direct and done well — mowing, string trimming, edging along walks and drives, and hauling off the fall's leaves and needles. Larkspur yards run to meadow more than to lawn, and there is a pleasure in leaving one that looks tended without looking scolded. By noon the pines smell like warm resin, the yard is finished, and it sits quiet for whoever comes home to it.