As I pen this entry, I am sitting in the hollow where Sam and Pippin hid from the first Black Rider they ever witnessed. Wrapped in my new shawl, I can watch any passersby with relative ease as I eat my "teatime" snack--some dried fruit and nuts.
It is difficult to imagine on this somewhat blustery day how those early heroes felt when they confronted the first form of evil they had ever known. Did their bones get cold? Was all light in the world temporarily forgotten at the sight of that wraith-like creature which haunted their steps?
From some of the stories I heard in the Green Dragon, Merry and Pippin did not think so. But old Samwise...his tales had a far greater feel of truth. And Frodo's, of course. Because, as Samwise would say: "They are the tales that matter."
Posted by Key at September 19, 2011 02:32 PM