Is it a tail of a lion which colors all these mornings golden? As quickly as it comes just after the sun reaches above the tree tops, as quickly it also turns to a more colder and brighter color. Just moments. All those yellow polka dots in the trees I would like to protect from the asphalt and a rake with a piece of tape. To make them hang and sway through the winter.
The article that I illustrated tells about sleeping and good dreams. "Sleeping is not about being lazy, but a responsibility." Enough, but not too much while being in the feather islands.
Lunchtime. Clinking and clanking while a parsnip soup boils,
P.s. Edit: The first image was forgotten.