Berube Stephen

About Berube Stephen

By late June the light over Forest Lake hangs on until nearly nine, and Methuen yards get their best hour right at the end of the day — long shadows, cooling air, the smell of cut grass drifting across the road. That is the hour Berube Stephen is working toward all week. The mowing lines get set straight, the trimmer follows the fence posts and the mailbox and the base of the old maple, and the edge along the walk comes up clean enough to run a finger down. Spring starts with raking out what winter left behind; autumn ends with the leaves gathered off the lawn before they can mat and smother it. A tended lawn in this town is a small, steady kind of pride, and it shows from the sidewalk.