Two in the morning in Berthoud is a quiet worth hearing — no traffic on the highway, the streetlights hooded in falling snow, the whole town reduced to the sound of a blade finding concrete. Dirt dynamics excavating keeps those hours, plowing driveways and lots, pushing back the berms the town plow leaves across the ends, shoveling walkways and putting ice melt on the steps. Snow work is mostly a matter of being there while nobody is watching. The proof turns up hours later, when someone backs out without giving it a thought. That is the whole ambition, storm after storm.