First light in Roxborough Park lands on the sandstone fins before it reaches any rooftop, and for a few minutes the whole tilted ridge glows like a struck match. We are usually out by then — in summer mowing, trimming and edging the terraced lawns that step down between the outcrops, and in winter plowing the steep drives and shoveling the walks before the ice sets in the shade. Foothills yards are never square, so we work them by hand where the mower cannot turn and take the slopes with respect on both counts. Our measure is the finish: an even cut running right up to the rock, or a driveway cleared to pavement with the banks pushed clear of the turn. Living against a red-rock hogback is a fine thing, and the ground around a house should look worthy of the view.