Late June in Brighton, and the light hangs on until nine — long enough for the creek meadow at Buckland Park to fill with fireflies before dark finally lands. Blessed mowing works that generous stretch of the year hard, cutting, trimming and tidying lawns across town while the season keeps handing out hours. Grass mowed at the right height holds its color straight through the heat, and that is the aim: green kept green, borders kept honest, beds kept clear of what creeps in. The work is plain, and it is done gladly. Street by street, Brighton looks the better for it.