Four in the morning on the north side of Windsor is a quiet the rest of the day never manages — the Great Western tracks under a skin of white, the streetlights doing what they can. MCE Construction LLC is moving by then. Lots pushed and stacked, walks and entries shoveled, ice cut back with sand and salt where the shade holds it longest. Storms come at this town two ways, grinding up out of the east heavy and wet, or short and dry and gone by noon; either way the pass has to be made before the first cars turn in. When the sun finally clears the eastern fields, the pavement is dark and wet and nobody thinks twice about it. That is the whole point.