It is that crazy time of year again in Jackson Hole when the temperatures drop below freezing and the snow begins to fall out of the sky.  There is a buzz of energy in the air.  Some locals are hustling to get the last bit of their firewood chopped and stacked and others are dusting off their ski and snowboard gear.

Somehow November flies by like a dream that I can almost recall.  It is vivid, but happens so fast that I can’t quite remember what happened.  The next thing I know, I am once again slipping my feet into ski boots, clicking into my bindings, and it is winter.