Faulkner Lawn

About Faulkner Lawn

Before the Beltway finds its voice, there is a window. Snow comes up the Potomac in the dark and lays itself over Oxon Hill, and Faulkner Lawn is out in it — plow down, salt going, a driveway opened to bare pavement while the lights on the Woodrow Wilson Bridge are still the brightest thing for miles. Come six in the morning somebody backs out without thinking twice about it, and that is the entire point of the night. The rest of the year the same trucks return for mowing and edging, holding the grass tight through the long humid stretch from April to October. Two seasons, one set of streets, the same steady hand on both.