February mornings around Griswold come in slate-colored over Glasgo Pond, the ice groaning somewhere out in the middle, the road above it packed hard and pale. AM Sealers meets those mornings with a blade and a spreader, taking a driveway back down to its own surface before the coffee cools. Snow out here does not fall politely; it blows sideways off the open water and rebuilds a berm across the apron twice before noon. Clearing it properly means going back, and going back is the job. The reward is small and real — a mailbox you can reach, an entrance that reads as an entrance again.