Scotland Yard

About Scotland Yard

Fog settles in the American Bottom on autumn mornings and drifts up the bluff into Collinsville, softening every outline until the sun cuts it loose around nine. A yard looks its finest coming out of that — dew silver across the grass, the edge along the walk sharp enough to lay a ruler against. That edge is the pleasure of the job: mowing straight, trimming close, cleaning up so the finish is the last thing anyone notices. The name is a small joke with a yard inside it, and the yard is where the effort actually lands. Neat lines, clean walks, week after week after week.