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.