In a January cold snap the snow around Greeley goes dry and squeaks underfoot, and sunrise comes up over the South Platte bottoms in a thin orange band you can look straight at. Rock Masters is already working by then — plow down, walks scraped, ice melt worked into the corners that never see sun. Cold like that changes how snow behaves; it refuses to pack, it blows back into a cleared drive, and staying ahead of it takes a second pass. They make the second pass. What is left behind is bare concrete on a morning that did not deserve it.