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We land in a season we did not leave. I am grateful, immediately, for the chill in the air on the jet bridge. Fall has been a long time coming to our home and I am tired of sweat. The airport is simple, a series of pathways after a short bus ride. We mingle among languages we do not speak and yet can lightly read, a refreshing change. We do not look out of place, save perhaps for being too…
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