golden wood

Sídhanar,

Long has it been since we walked side by side between the great mellyrn together; you, telling me stories of events that have long since passed and the distant lands they took place in.

Lord Elrond stood upon the bridge deep in thought. The water below was now a gentle stream greatly reduced from the torrent of melt water that had signalled the arrival of spring. Eventually it would become a trickle and then remain dry until next year’s winter snows melted once more. Pacing back and forth he contemplated the news that he had just received.  The news came from a patrol of his guards that had found one of the gardeners in a state of great distress. After some time he had regained some sense and managed to recount his story to the patrol leader.

Shafts of sunlight slant through the canopy above, winking in and out as the wind stirs the leaves into new patterns. The wood is filled with light: it glances off the rippling water to either side, casting glimmering reflections back across the surface. Somewhere among the trees a bird sings, undisturbed by the silent movements of the sentries I know patrol nearby. But for them, this land would almost seem untouched by the troubles outside its borders. There is peace here – yet all are aware that it is hard-fought, and hard-won.

Rivendell is like a secret place hidden between mountains… Tall standing, dark green trees seem always trying to reach out to the sky and there is always different colors where falls pouring in.

It’s so different then being in Caras Gladhon… Everything is different…