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You could already feel leaves cushion your feet when I was still waxing lyrical about the browns and the reds.

You could already hear birds leave when I was still meaning to hang that nest box we’d bought in the spring.

You could already see your breath when I was still reading messages into the puffs of smoke going up around us.

You could already smell snow on the air when I was still trying to decide between a plumber and a heating engineer.

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