Evening is the best hour on Carol Stream's curving streets, when the parkway trees throw long shadows across lawns that have just been cut. The town's blocks bend and loop instead of running straight, so every yard has a shape of its own — a wedge here, a deep pie-slice on a cul-de-sac there — and each one asks for its own line of travel. The work is plain and steady: mowing, string trimming around posts and foundations, edging along the walks and drives, then clearing the cuttings so the sidewalk still looks like a sidewalk. Down along Klein Creek the ground stays soft and green well into the season, and the smell of a fresh cut drifts a whole block at once. It is an ordinary kind of beauty, and worth doing right.