Monsoon in 49th parallel north


And that's it for 5 weeks of backyard raking!

Fall came and ended, with all its glory. Afternoons strolling around the park under honey-soaked streaks of sunlight shining through the russet leaves are now replaced by rainy, misty ones that mark the entry of the Vancouver winter - endless rain and mud. In nowhere but Vancouver did I see the seasons elapsing so remarkably, despite the city's reputation for a constantly temperate climate - at least in this country, where people use their backyards as fridges. As a native of the tropics (since when do I sound like a geography documentary?), where either the boiling sun or torrential rainfalls dominate the climate, I still can't figure out how to get used to season changes. The first half of the semester left me snowed under work for most of the week until one gray Saturday morning, when I woke up and saw the maple tree over the window was shedding its last leaves while the sound of rain tapping on the roof hadn't ever stopped since last night.

I woke up at dawn! Well, 7:30 am to be precise at this latitude.

Anyway, though it's nearly three months of the school year, when I should have learned how to manage my school stuff, my back still hurts from carrying the backpack - not from textbooks anymore, but my thick raincoat and umbrella. As ironic as they sound, the incessant downpours and dull grey skies bring me a sense of adventure I have never had during sunny summers when the heat and mosquito bites prevented me from even stepping out of my room. I would love to hop up and down on the bus after school, just to take off the suffocating face mask and take a really deep breath of the crisp petrichor by the roadside. More than often than not, in the morning, I could jump right into the biggest puddles while sprinting to the bus, as rainy mornings mean packed buses that wouldn't accept any more passengers - and higher chances of being late for school! Never was my whimsical personality shown more clearly than on rainy days, when I have a burst of going out for a walk. Just a few weeks ago, I walked a kilometer under the rain - with my umbrella ripped out - because all the buses were delayed about an hour. It was one of the most surreal experiences I've ever had, hearing nothing but just the wind gushing beside me and seeing nothing but the water vapor covering my glasses. But if I hadn't felt such intimidated under the thunder, had I come to appreciate the warmth of the Tim Hortons under which I took a shelter and a cup of hot chocolate?

My sense of wanderlust suddenly awakened by the rainy weather also gives me a whole new perspective of the world. Going through different neighborhoods every day, I started to notice how distinct they were. While the mansion at West Point Grey that I used to go to every Saturday for art workshops left me minutes walking myself through the world of Jane Austen, with its solemn cornerstones and blazing fireplaces, the cookie-cutter shops on Kitsilano seemed so utopian with their cutting-edge appearances and virtually every staff and customer dressed in dark colors. At night, the warm lights shone from houses on the roadside make up for the lack of stars during summer nights. Not only wanderlust, but my epicurean quest also brings me around the city, such as to the east side, where I can find boxes of frozen chicken for chicken congee that would cure any SAD signs, fresh persimmons, and milk tea packets that either make you very sleepy or wide awake. While going there, I couldn't miss the chance to marvel at the pink rows of houses on Kingsway, where thick bushes of roses keep blooming even in the gushes of rain. There was even a big steep hill on the way back to the West Side, where you can have a real panoramic view of the city glowing at any time of the day. How wonderful it is, when things can't become livelier without a dull background!

 This image was brought to you by at least 2 neighborhoods on Halloween :)

Yet, there are still days when it is impossible to get out of the house: the roads get too slippery to drive, the wind is too strong (yes, there was a tornado ripping through a few weeks ago), or I just simply have little energy to get around. During one of the long weekends I got at least once a month from school, I started to work on a comic. Though I have never considered myself an artsy person, having been drawing people in one single style since grade 3, I actually enjoyed working with new shades of colors. I outlined the frames, drew "swimming pools and living rooms and aeroplanes," and finished each page with a touch of watercolor. When I grew tired of painting, I would dig up the dusty corner of my bookshelf and practice a random piano sheet again, as quite a few of them I hadn't touched for too long. After all, how does a groundhog keep itself busy in the burrow till spring comes?


The season's coming again!


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