The season of Autumn is anything but monotonous.
Darkness is already approaching, Apples are falling in the orchards. On the paths where autumn is coming, Summer is slowly leaving.
Red, the maple leaves. Orange, the wild mushrooms. Yellow, the veiled sun. Brown, like the trunk. Beautiful are the colors of autumn!
Glorious October smiles on nature. It seems that summer revives the bushes. A fresh wind, which the smell of faded woods saturates, on the grass and on the waters makes its shivers run.!
I know a planet where there is a Crimson Mister. He has never smelled a flower. He has never looked at a star. He has never loved anyone. He has never done anything but addition. And all day long he repeats like you: "I am a serious man! I am a serious man!" and it makes him swell with pride. But he is not a man, he is a mushroom!