It is like this all over Paris. Not exactly with stacks of wood and pumpkins, but with that soft fall light and people bundling up against the returning cold. I pour out of the metro and, since I am never too busy to look up, I soak in the sight of broken rays of sun pouring through golden leaves. It’s backed by the cold grey of the elegant Haussmanns that line the streets and cast shadows on their delicate architectual quips. It is fall in Paris that makes me fall in love all over again.

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