Burning brightly with all kinds of reds 

“Fall  is the most colourful season a photographer could ever wish for, as nature is positively glowing with the most bright shades of reds!” Gun Roswell 

The fall of summer, did not turn out to be a bummer after all, as all the great colours, came out for the ball of a festival, arranged special, to celebrate the turning of season, surely a very good reason to do just that. After all, wouldn’t anyone get a tad bored, of all the green in control, over the whole of the summer, and it seems, they still are trying to hold on, despite the colder weather having a grasp of the nights long at last. But, that does not really matter as the fact of it is, that one without the other won’t exist, but, they cannot do so, all at once. So, in the natural order of things, each of them will have to take turns when they will their arias sing, as the cold blues and whites will own the winter time, the greenish tints starting from spring until summer and when the autumn finally falls, all the fiery best are released as the harvest feasts, turn all of nature to a mild wild fire of reds. And that is the joy of the season of fall.

Watery Edge

“Be careful out there, it’s a slippery slope, the edge that is, so don’t fall off!” Gun Roswell

When standing on the edge
I made this solemn pledge
To dive in
Even if,
There would be ice thin
Luckily,
This September weather
Is a reminiscent of a soft feather
More so,
Than a rainy autumn
Boy,
Must the Forecast Gods feel dumb!

First Frost of the Year

“Be prepared, the cold weather is here! Soon, it will be summer no more, as winter, always wins, as it is, strong.” Gun Roswell

Nature in pending status
Almost like being on hiatus
Leaves of multicolour
Covered with sugary frost
The misty air softly hovers
Over last night’s rain drops
Now frozen in their spots
A glimmer of sunlight
The only a reflection in sight
Soon enough the colour fades
The frost of rain only remains
And the Autumn turns
To Winter

Trees of Plenty

“Trees and leaves, the change of weather, the change of time, fall, august, has arrived” Gun Roswell

Mother Nature’s work of art
Colourful, simple and smart
Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall
Following the ancient protocol

Fall in Suburbia

“The colours are chaining now, it’s most certainly the time for autumn!” Gun Roswell

Roaming around the Hood
Because the weather was really good
Clouds floating in the blue sky
Wishing if only I could fly
The sun warm on my skin
Melting the coldest of Finns
Colours burning bright
Ideas taking flight
Snap, click, snap, click
Hoping to score some great pics
So here they are
I didn’t walk too far
But still got a great bunch
In a time it takes to have lunch

Autumn Nature

“The air is crisp, the nature going aslumber, it’s fall, autumn time for us all.” Gun Roswell

The last warm days
Before the cold rains
It is time to prepare
But do not despair
Summer may be ending
The nature surely changing
Soon it will be autumn
But the colours
Will be awesome

Fall Sunrise in the Early Morning Hours

“Something so special while waking up early, a sunrise spotted surely!” Gun Roswell

Sunrise, higher than high
In the early September sky
Over the morning clouds
The sun has spread its shroud
Blues and reds playing in a mix
Eyes staring completely transfixed
The cool crisp air caressing
Almost feels like singing

Rocky shores ahead!

“Life on the rocks, it certainly is!” Gun Roswell

Hard and cold they be, when autumn us sees

Onto the land falls, life slowing down to a halt 

A frown on the faces forming, when it starts storming

Grey skies the constant companion with me now

It’s life on the slippery, watery rocks after all

Hence the name, or the expression, fall?

A Jack of all trades, but a master of pun

“I know many things?” Gun Roswell 

I may know a little bit of everything

But sometimes, I am just pretending

When I get into a dark corner

And there is no kind of door there

I use humour, to dig my way out

Sometimes, I even have to shout!

The noise sprouting out of my mouth

So loud and silly, it’s just all, willy nilly

And then, I really do feel guilty

Then out pours the utter most filthy!

So guess you can say

I’m so stupid I just pretend

Play the part of the fool

Being a total tool

A Jack of no trades 

And a master, of none?

Paranoid?

“I think I just may be, a tad paranoid?”

Voices, noises

Never good with so many choices

Watching, looking, staring

Who’s in my kitchen cooking

Daemons, angels, the devil perhaps?

God, Jesus and all those things fictional

Aliens and conspiracies more so

Paradoxes, global warming 

At least that one is true!

The FBI, police forces, neighbours even

And with their cats and dogs too!

They are all watching, me!

I am, becoming, quite paranoid