As I sat there in the snow, a snowshoe hare raced by, a blur of white and brown. Like us, it was caught in the transition between summer and winter. Their feet are the first thing to turn white in the fall and the last think to brown in the Spring. They always look so vulnerable hopping around with white feet in a snowless landscape. Right on its tail was a pine marten, eyes fixed on it quarry. In the heat of the chase, I doubt the hare or marten even realized that they ran right past my feet. How often do you get to watch a predator chase its prey in your bathroom! That’s why I will trade a snowy throne with a view for a flush toilet any day.