I’m living to skijor right now.  Nothing feels more alive.  Nothing can compare to the beautiful things I am seeing when I am out on my skis, cutting through snow and wind, passing by stone and creek bend, gliding out of the shadows of the douglas fir and into the vertical sweep of the willow, watching my dogs kick the ice from their heels and work their hearts out for me.  And my heart?  My heart is unfolding like a hymn right now, four part harmony, a steady bass line, twittering soprano giving all the high notes a little grace — all praise and gratitude and my human wildness howling up a savage little storm beneath my skin.  On the very best days, days like these, I fully realize I truly belong right where I am.