The Pattaconk runs right through the middle of Chester village, under the street and past the old mill buildings that now hold shops and a kitchen or two. The yards along it are small, sloped and full of character, and they get mowed, trimmed and edged on a schedule that keeps them from ever looking overgrown. Beds are mulched in spring once a cleanup pulls the winter out of them; in November the leaves come off before they mat down over the grass. Chester in June smells like brook water and cut lawn at the same time, which is about as good as a work day gets. The aim is modest and exact: neat turf, sharp edges, and a village that looks the way visitors already imagine it does.