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Crisp.

Autumn began at the end of August in Vancouver. Leaves started falling that early, and now two-thirds of the trees are emptied and the leaves are in sheaves on the sidewalks and curbs. I’ve never seen fall last so long; heretically, I thought the other day, “it’s okay if fall is over soon.” I’m used to Philadelphia, where the season only ever lasts a week. This seems to last so long that we’re almost calloused to the beauty.

Over the weekend, though, I was in Philadelphia, and when I went out Tuesday morning, Vancouver had changed since I left. It was winter-coat weather, cold and brisk — snapping, cool, beautiful, perfect, wonderful; the kind of weather I don’t remember having in years and ages. Every morning, the grass and leaves are covered in sharp, silver frost; the grass is stiff and crackles under your feet, like crusty snow. It’s wonderful and beautiful and I love it so much.

Have a photo of a tiny little island, from our whale-watching trip.

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