One thing that astonished me was people saying 'I have no time.' At the beginning, I found that this was a strange thing to say, seeing how much everyone is doing in no time. I almost had the feeling the day was much longer than in Celondim, because people in Bree-land are doing so much more in one day's time. They hurry and have no time to talk - well, except for some guards who love to stop and have a chat. Everybody is always in a hurry, and maybe this is because everyone knows they are mortal, and that they have not all the time of the Middle-earth to do what they want to do. But maybe this is also, why they grow older so fast. Maybe if they would do things slower, with an Elvish rhythm, they would live much longer?
After a few days in Bree, I have been sent to the Lone-lands - and how scared I was at first. They are full of terrible creatures. You can't almost find a place where to spend one night in peace. How thankful I am now, that I grew up at such a peaceful and calm place. The most terrible creatures there were wolves, and how harmless they are compared to what I have come upon here in the Lone-lands. I have been fighting Orcs and Goblins for weeks and months now, without taking the time to write about what I saw and what I did. I had no time. Finally, I am using this phrase, too. Maybe this is part of being human.
Last week, a traveller in need of food and water traded some very beautiful Lossoth robes for half of my supplies. I like to look at them, things deep down in my heart start to stir, and I am reminded of what I can't even name. Odours, noises, feelings... It feels good and warm to have these misty childhood memories flooding over me. So I am sitting here at the fire on my mother's old cloak, on which I will fall asleep in a few minutes, my eyes caressing the fury piece of Lossoth clothes that looks out of my bundle - while others are standing guard for me and a handful of other mortals who have been fighting together these last few days. And only now I have found some peace and time to write down some more lines into this pretty diary of mine with its gentle and playful ornaments, that looks so much out of place here in these harsh Lone-lands.
