There is an hour in June — early, while the harbor haze is still burning off — when the lawns of New Bedford sit silver with dew and the mowers start up. Whaling City Lawns works those mornings, cutting grass in clean parallel passes, trimming tight to the foundations, then blowing the concrete clear before the truck rolls to the next address. The city climbs from the waterfront up County Street to the elms and wide green of Buttonwood Park, and every yard on that rise asks for a slightly different cut. Summers on this coast run humid and quick; the grass grows like it means it, so the schedule keeps pace. By afternoon the block smells of cut grass and the ocean at once, which is about as fine as a day here gets.