Four in the morning in Coldwater, and the plow lights are the only thing moving between the porch lamps and the streetlights. Snow that crossed the whole state overnight lies untouched on driveways from the north-side blocks out toward the county line, and by the time kitchen windows turn yellow it stands in banks with dark pavement showing between them. Come June the same trucks pull mowers instead, and the work becomes the long green ribbon of a lawn cut on rotation, trimmed tight to the porch steps and edged along the front walk. Plowing and mowing are two halves of one habit here: get there early, leave the ground better than the weather left it. Coldwater keeps both seasons on its calendar, and this outfit keeps both on the schedule.