Canadaway Creek cuts its cold channel through Pomfret and carries the morning down toward Lake Erie, and the lawns above it wake up wet. This is a lawn care outfit that likes that hour — blades sharp, dew still silvering the grass, the first pass laid straight across a yard nobody has walked on yet. Mowing, trimming, edging, and the cleanups that clear the maple litter off a lawn before winter closes over it: the work is plain and the pleasure is in how it looks when the truck pulls away. A crisp edge along a Pomfret walkway holds its line the way a good sentence does. Come evening, the light off the lake finds the stripes.