The brisk air, the fading light, rust-hued leaves rustling and decaying—I come back to all this with revelry every year. Maybe this is because I was born in October, therefore autumn in Warsaw will forever capture the default setting for the world itself as I know it. Or maybe what has me so delighted is fall’s promise of a winterful of nights at home that seem to last all day. Either way, these November weekday morning shots in Mysia street manage to apprehend the season at its gold-flecked gray extreme. (The new Fuji helped me frame this, but it’s the tourist’s eye I recently honed in Portugal that got me to see it in the first place.)