December in Capital is early dark and porch lights, and somewhere past midnight the flakes begin coming sideways through them. Scrooge's Snow Removal keeps the night shift — plowing drives and lots, shoveling steps and walks, laying salt where the melt refreezes into glass by morning. This part of the state can go weeks bone-dry and then hand you six inches ahead of a Tuesday commute, so the truck stays ready from the first cold snap onward. There is an odd contentment in it: the town asleep, the blade down, a driveway coming clean in two passes. Whatever the name suggests, the walk gets cleared all the way to the door.