Some mornings the meadows out at Little Mulberry Park hold their fog until nine, and the whole east side of Dacula smells like wet grass and pine. That is the hour The Grass Guy likes to start. Mowing, trimming, edging, cleanup — plain work, kept on a rhythm, so a yard never gets away from the person who lives in it. April brings the yellow pollen down over everything and wakes the fescue and Bermuda up hungry, which is when fertilization, weed control, aeration and overseeding earn their place in the calendar. By November it is leaves, wheelbarrows of them, off the turf and out of the beds from the creek bottoms over toward Auburn, Grayson and Lawrenceville. Nothing fancy in the telling: a cut yard, and dew tracks showing exactly where he has been.