Three in the morning on French Hill, where the streets are steep enough that a storm makes the decision for you: get out early or do not get out at all. We Plow Driveways is named for exactly what it does — driveways, aprons, and the turn at the top where the city plow has left a wall of hardpack across the mouth of the drive. The best part of the night is the last pass, when the surface comes up black and wet and the taillights make it shine. By the time Leominster stirs and the buses grind up the hill, the whole thing is invisible, which is the point. The towns next door get the same treatment as long as the snow keeps falling.