Out on the flats off Aviation Road the Queensbury sky is wider than it has any right to be this close to the mountains, and at noon in July the heat lies right down on the grass. All American lawn and landscaping works those open yards through the long middle of summer — mowing, trimming, edging, keeping the beds clear of what crept in during the week. There is nowhere to hide on a lawn like that; a line either runs true across the whole run or it doesn't, and the neighbors can see either one from the road. So we take the extra pass, and we take it in the same direction we took it last time. By the time the small planes come humming back over at suppertime, the yard looks like somebody meant it.