Snow reaches Farmington Hills quietly, drifting in off the flat country to the west and filling the wooded folds along the Middle Rouge until the whole city is one soft color. Uncle Froggy's Lawn & Landscaping is awake for it, plowing out before the first commuter swings onto Halsted, so a driveway is open and a walk is passable while the house behind it is still dark. Snow removal is the entire job in these months: push, stack, clear the apron, then come back when the wind fills it in again. There is a particular pride in the sound of a shovel scraped down to bare concrete at four in the morning. By sunrise the street looks like nothing happened, which is how you know somebody was there.