The 34th Street bridge lifts you onto the island before the gulls are fully awake, and by then the mowers are already off the trailer. FIT LAWNS LANDSCAPING cuts grass across Ocean City, where lawns grow out of sandy ground under a sky that goes from gray to hot white by nine in the morning. Summer here pushes growth fast — rain blowing in off the Atlantic, sun that refuses to quit, a yard that needs someone paying attention every single week. There is a plain satisfaction in the final pass down a narrow strip of yard: the stripe laid straight, the curb line cut sharp enough to read like a pencil mark. Mow, trim, edge, haul the clippings away, and leave the place looking like nobody was ever there.