Austell wakes early, and so does the work. Before the heat has any say in the day, the first pass goes down across dew-silvered bermuda over near Threadgill Park, and the wheel tracks come up dark behind the deck. Mowing, string trimming along the fence line, a clean blow-down of the walks — the whole route runs on that early hour, when the air still holds a little of the night in it. By the time the sun clears the pines the lawn is striped and still, and somebody is going to step out onto it and stop for a second. That pause is the point of getting up early.