Up by the Cascades above Coes Pond the old stone walls run right through the woods, the way they do all across the west side of Worcester. The Poison Ivy Guy works the yards below them — mowing and trimming through the green months, plowing those same driveways once the brook takes ice at its edges. May is the busy turn, when everything comes on at once and a lawn can go shaggy inside a week. Winter flips the map without changing it: same routes, same driveways, cut open before the hill has any traffic on it. Two weathers, one city, learned street by street.