The storms that matter here arrive backwards — in off the plains from the northeast, piling cold and heavy against the foothills while Fort Lupton sits under it all night. Riverdale Tree Services is out in that: blade down before the streetlights quit, drives and lots opened up, walks shoveled, ice melt worked into the slick spots by the door. Along the river the cottonwoods hold snow in their crooks and the road runs white and unbroken until the first tires cut it. There is a particular good feeling in a driveway cleared to the concrete at six in the morning, curb to garage, so somebody can leave for work without thinking about it once. Then back to the truck, heater ticking, one more address before the town is awake.