Midland winters arrive out of the northwest, crossing open beet and bean ground with nothing standing in the way to slow them down. B Martin's Plowing runs into that at four in the morning — headlights full of falling snow, blade down, driveways pushed back to bare pavement while the houses are still dark. There is a real craft to it: where to stack the banks so the next storm has somewhere to go, how to leave the mailbox standing and the path to the door wide enough for boots. Salt goes onto the slick spots, and by the time the coffee is on the car can back out without a second thought. That is the whole ambition of a plow truck — to make the storm look like less than it was.