“Aki, what is it like to live in a Christmas card? The little dog, just freed from 10 days at the doggie hotel, ignores my question and rushes down the trail. She zooms up the crusty mountain meadow trail, dives down and rubs the sides of her face on her first snow of the winter. Thinking she misunderstood my question, I restate it: “Aki, what is it like to live in a landscape so like the images on Christmas cards?” Popping up from her snow bath, she shakes away my question with the snow caught in her fine fur. Looking at the frosted bull pines that stand over the snowy meadow and the strips fog that underline the all-white mountain ridge above, I say, “Well, I like it fine enough you little brat.”