I had a recurring dream for years before moving to Seattle. It was discovering, to my great surprise, that I had mountains right in my backyard. If I just walked the right direction, across the right field, and down some hilly wooded paths, the foot of a mountain would appear in front of me. I would scale it and look over into a breathtaking valley where snowy-sided mountains stretched out into the distance. I don’t have the dream any more, maybe because it happens to me here! In the winter, the Cascades and Olympics are a peek-a-boo affair. On days like today, their unlikely mass, high contrast with white snow and deep gray rock, appear to be right on top of me, and I gasp at their perceived nearness.