HE CHILL OF WINTER NIGHT LINGERS IN THE AIR, AND I MOVE QUICKLY THROUGH THE SNOW TO SEND WARM BLOOD TO MY NUMBLY ACHING FINGERS AND TOES. A layer of fog silently glides below the mountains, and any surface brushed by its icy finger lays frosted, transformed into a living scultpure of ice. Dawn's soft light kindles the clouds above with a rosy pink, and I forget the cold. January 2010, Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming.