Evening light in Woodbury catches the white steeple first and the lawns last, and that is a fine hour to finish a cut. The Old Man And His Mower keeps to an unhurried standard — mowing, trimming around every post and stone, edges drawn clean, clippings dealt with rather than scattered. Spring and fall bring the cleanups, the raking and leaf removal that decide how the grass comes through the cold. Nothing here is rushed and nothing is left half done. Woodbury yards and the towns bordering it, one property at a time.