Yes, it’s still November, but I refuse to call it fall when the snow is unending and it feels like -35 outside. I’ve seen winter before, of course. Winter in Newfoundland is cold and wet, miserable and long. This is a different sort of cold, one that is bitter and dry, and comes about quickly. It’s beautiful and terrible at once. The snow doesn’t give way under your feet, it crunches and compresses until it is slippery like ice. The wire to my headphones stiffens immediately and breathing the cold air freezes my lungs.
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