An upslope storm reaches Pueblo sideways off the northern plains, and by four in the morning Belmont's driveways have gone from asphalt to a soft blank page. MTS Mikey the Squirrel is out in it, plowing and shoveling while the streetlights still hold their orange, opening walkways and lots so the first cars of the day roll onto dark pavement. Snow here is dry and fast — it arrives hard, then Pikes Peak shows up white on the northern horizon and the sun starts taking the valley back by noon — so the work is timing as much as muscle. De-icer goes down where shade lingers along a north wall, because that is where a driveway stays treacherous long after the rest of the block has dried. The reward is small and complete: a clean apron, a clear path to the door, a morning that starts on time.