Notice: With the Laurelin server shutting down, our website will soon reflect the Meriadoc name. You can still use the usual URL, or visit us at https://meriadocarchives.org/
Sing to the summer, the season of warmth, the sun and the fruit in the fields;
But welcome the autumn, the fall of the leaves, the artist of colour and change.
In red and golden leaves it paints, in cold and starry sky,
In fiery grass and flaming fruits, in misty fingers grey.
The winds it calls from east and west, from north and southern plains,
The clouds it shepherds to its will, bright sun and early rains.
I don't understand whoever designed its head, it has an uncanny ability to get stuck in everything I walk past. It's balance isn't too far off, however, and at least it works as a tent post or back-scratcher in emergencies.