Gudzwi: Summer is fading. Sit down autumn.
Gudzwi: A quartet and three doves. At the Piazza del Campo.
Gudzwi: I don't make a fool of myself. I am working.
Gudzwi: So in between. Should I stay or should I go?
Gudzwi: Reserved already. Me and my Christmas tree for this year.
Gudzwi: Blue Hour. And something orange.
Gudzwi: The roaring twenties. A hundred years later.
Gudzwi: Autumn has arrived. First of all he crouched down.
Gudzwi: Strange creature. Cygnus Olor Medusae.