you're not the kind that has to tell me about the birds and the bees

Fall announced its presence stronger than ever on Sunday evening as I strolled along College, shivering the entire time. I soon learned that my jacketless nights were well over, and that skirts without tights was just plain stupid, and that the sun would no longer help lift my spirits as I trudged home after night class next week. It may just be me, but it seems as though we've skipped over October and gone straight to November weather. I know little autumn hats really are quite precious, but since when have they been practical on the first of October? And has it always been this dark outside this soon?

For those who know me well, they know that the oncoming of fall, and in turn, the inevitable oncoming of winter, do not go over well in my books. My spirits sink. My steps drag. My shoulders slouch. (Alright, I may be being a tad dramatic, but when am I not? And how can I not be dramatic when I suddenly must carry jacket in tow wherever I go?)

But as my posture goes to shambles, I can only hope that this fall will be different than the past four. I can only hope and be this optimistic because I am finallyfinallyfinally in my favourite city for all these change in colours and temperatures. It can't be all bad. The city will still sparkle against an early sunset and a chilly wind. And even if it doesn't, I have to believe it so.