It’s the beginning of winter again already, and summer feels like a memory. The days are grey and chilly here in Vancouver, BC, and there is a moistness in the air — a foreshadowing of what’s to come.
Soon, the periodic showers will become a near-constant rain, often accompanied by a biting wind and a bone-deep chill, punctuated by storms that tip over garbage bins and litter the streets with twigs and branches.
The nights will be long and the days will be awash in various shades of grey. I hate this time of year. For the next six months, my freedom will be limited, my dependence on others will increase, and my mental health will be impacted.
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