West Jordan sits in a bowl of its own, the jagged white teeth of the Wasatch rising to the east and the rounder, mining-scarred shoulders of the Oquirrhs closing off the west, and DNA Landscaping LLC works the flat floor between the two all winter long. Snow here tends to arrive off the western range first, sweeping low across the valley before climbing the foothills on the far side, and a crew that knows the pattern can be three driveways ahead of a storm instead of chasing it. Underneath every clipped hedge and edged bed all summer is the same eye that now reads a driveway for the fastest, cleanest way to clear it — where the drift will pile, where the runoff will refreeze by dusk. A plowed cul-de-sac out here, ringed by two mountain ranges going gray and then gold as the light changes, has its own kind of drama most people never look up long enough to notice. The work ends when the concrete shows through end to end and the walk to the front door is one clean stripe.