This morning the air had that clean, cold bite that makes one pull a dressing-gown closer and consider whether courage can be brewed like tea. I stood at the round door a moment longer than necessary, listening to the Hill settle, and watching the world look quietly expectant.
When I shook out the tablecloth, a little shower of crumbs fell onto the step — nothing worth calling a feast, unless you are small and feathered. Sparrows came at once, bold as Tookishness, and for a minute the whole business of the day felt simpler: share what you have, and the road seems less lonely in Middle Earth.
I have seen treasure piled in dark places, guarded by great teeth and greater pride, and I have seen a single warm bite make an unexpected friend. “If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.” I do not know about the whole world, but I know it makes a hobbit’s doorstep merrier — and that is a good start.
Filed under: Middle Earth • Written at Bag End