At noon in July the sky over this stretch of Illinois is enormous and almost white, and a freshly mown lawn looks like the only cool thing for miles. Massey Mowing puts down the kind of straight, even passes that make a yard read like a field seen from the air — laps kept true, height set for the heat so the grass does not scorch. Trimming follows the mower into the corners a deck cannot reach, edging squares off the drive and the walk, and every hard surface gets swept clear with the blower. Yards around Texas run wide and open, which is a pleasure to cut and unforgiving of a crooked line. Doing it right is the whole job, and the finished lawn says so without a word.