Route 130 at midnight in a storm is a tunnel of pine and blowing snow between the village and Forestdale, and the plows have it to themselves. Trades Enterprises runs those hours — driveways, walkways and parking lots opened while the snow is still falling, then a second pass at first light for whatever drifted back in. Sand and salt go down on the shaded bends near the ponds, where ice sets up long after the sun has found everything else. None of it is glamorous and all of it counts: a lot cleared means a business opens, a drive cleared means somebody makes their morning. By the time Sandwich is properly awake the routes are down to blacktop and the truck is headed home.