Winter comes into Buchanan Township sideways, hauled inland off Lake Michigan and dropped over the orchard country in bands that can bury a driveway between supper and sunrise. Big Dawg Enterprises answers that with headlights on the section roads long before the school buses, pushing back the night's work so the first cup of coffee is drunk in a cleared yard. Come April, when the redbuds throw their purple haze along the fencerows, the same trucks trade blades for mowers. What the work is after is simple and hard to fake: a straight cut, a crisp edge, a walk you can take in slippers. Season after season, the shape of the year here gets written in windrows of pushed snow and in the green stripes left behind a mower.