Four in the morning, Central Ward, snow coming straight down under the streetlights and Nat Turner Park gone soft and shapeless. Pedro Snow Removal is already moving — blade down, drives opened, walks and steps cleared, salt laid where the ice will try to form. Newark storms roll in off the water wet and heavy, the kind that sets like concrete if it is left alone until noon. So it is not left alone. By the time the first bus hisses down the avenue the pavement is black, the paths are walkable, and nobody stepping outside has to think about any of it.