Thursday, November 03, 2011

Red, Yellow, Brown

Vancouver is beautiful in the autumn and early winter. Everywhere I walk is littered with the natural tones of the season, leaves piling high by drains, at corners, or beneath the trees they fell from.

For the most part, the skies are a crystal clear blue, sunlight falling onto the city, unobstructed by clouds. The air is crisp and clear, and in the early mornings, I can see my breath while waiting for the bus.

The city is dry, but the mountains, a mere half hour from Downtown by public transport, have already seen a light dusting of snowfall. Experts, or at least what passes for experts when it comes to predicting the weather, claim that this coming winter will be a particularly cold one. Thankfully, I still have my extra warm jumper and the only scarf I've ever owned, both of which were good-bye gifts from the children I used to teach back in Ireland.

I anxiously await my first snowfall of the year, not only because I love seeing everything covered in white, looking like the start of a fresh, new world, a world where anything is possible, but also because I have no idea how well the buses will run to get me to and from work. 

That first morning when I open my curtains and look out on a sparkling white landscape is going to be fun.

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