#3 in the Mountain Mama Chronicles is called Let It Snow, and it’s rooted in some of my most cherished winter memories. When I lived in Alaska, I learned to cross-country ski in the dark. Winter there is long and dim, so I skied with a headlamp, following groomed trails lit here and there by scattered lamps. The snow shimmered with icy blue light, everything quiet and still. It felt like my own magical Narnia. My girlfriend and I would squeal with pure joy flying down steep hills, laughing into the cold air. Those moments stayed with me. After moving to Montana, I discovered old logging roads that intersect through the woods. I remember feeling like God had handed me a gift. One winter morning, skiing with my dogs, all I could hear was the soft whisper of skis over frozen snow. I looked up and saw a great gray owl perched above a small meadow, massive and completely still. It was breathtaking.