Brownfield sits where the Saco slows into sandbars and the White Mountains stand blue over the treetops, with Burnt Meadow Mountain keeping watch on the south side of town. Lawns out here run to sand and pine duff, and they reward patience — a steady mowing rhythm, clean trimming at every ledge and post, leaves gathered before November pins them flat. Spring cleanup is the good one: rake back the winter grit, open the ground to the light, and watch green come up through it inside a week. When fall arrives the bog fills with birds and the yards fill with maple leaf, and each gets handled in its turn. Brownfield and East Brownfield, out toward the river towns.