Postcards of Vancouver invariably show the city set against a dazzlingly blue sky. Not at this time of year when, to paraphrase Northwest Pacific writer Tom Robbins, the sky sits on the landscape like a wet cloth on a salad.
Still, there is an elegiac, minor key, quality about the grey landscape that fits the mood of the season. Random spots fell as we walked along beside the water to Granville Island. Joggers, dog-walkers, amblers were out in abundance. You don't allow rain to cramp your style if you live here.
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