West of the village the ground turns black — the old muck fields lie level as a table and hold the morning mist longer than anywhere else in Chester. Felix tree and yard service starts out there while it is still cool, mowing, trimming, and shearing back the brush along the fence lines. Yards on that edge of town run big and flat, which sounds easy until you meet the ditches and the field corners. Everything gets cut to one height, the perimeter is trimmed by hand, and what comes down gets carried off rather than left in a heap. By the time the field trucks are moving, the lawn is finished and the day has barely started.