There is an evening in early July when the deep back lots of the West End fill with fireflies and every mower in Oneonta has finally gone quiet. New Asbury Gardens spends the daylight getting yards into that condition — mowing, trimming tight along stone and picket, edging the walks, and clearing beds and leaves when the seasons hand off. Lawns on these older streets are odd shapes, long and sloped and hemmed by maples somebody planted a century ago, and each one asks for a slightly different pass. Where the machine cannot reach, it gets done by hand, and that is the part you notice from the porch. Hand-scale work for a town that has always kept its gardens close to its front steps.