Along the Broad River the winter mornings come in with frost stitched over the pasture and fog lying in the bottoms until the sun works it loose. 40 BELOW keeps the calendar this country keeps: bermuda tan and sleeping in January, then the green rush that starts the same week the dogwoods open. Mowing at a height that suits the month, drives given their line back, the trimmer taken around fence rows, mailbox posts and the foot of every hardwood. Red clay finds a walkway after any hard rain, so the blower always has the last word. Steady upkeep in a place of granite outcrops and rolling hayfields, and a yard that ends up looking intentional.