Two in the morning during a real storm, and the street is one unbroken white page with the streetlights hazy above it. Vinces Snow Removal is the first mark on that page, amber beacon turning, plowing the drives open and clearing the walks while the township sleeps through it. Snow falls quietly here and stacks up faster than it appears to, which is why the work starts long before anyone needs to leave. A drive cut wide, squared at the street, the piles set where the next pass will not undo them, that is the shape of a morning that goes easy. By sunrise the only evidence is that nothing was ever in the way.