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Then as he had kept watch Sam had noticed that at times a light seemed to be shining faintly within; but now the light was even clearer and stronger. Frodo’s face was peaceful, the marks of fear and care had left it; but it looked old, old and beautiful, as if the chiseling of the shaping years was now revealed in many fine lines that had before been hidden, though the identity of the face was not changed. Not that Sam Gamgee put it that way to himself. He shook his head, as if finding words useless, and murmured: “I love him. He’s like that, and sometimes it shines through, somehow. But I love him, whether or no.”
“This is it.”
“This is what?”
“If I take one more step, it’ll be the farthest away from home I’ve ever been.”
“Come on, Sam. Remember what Bilbo used to say: It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.”
Hobbits have been living and farming in the four Farthings of the Shire for many hundreds of years, quite content to ignore and be ignored by the world of the Big Folk. Middle-earth being, after all, full of strange creatures beyond count. Hobbits must seem of little importance being neither renowned as great warriors… nor counted among the very wise. In fact, it has been remarked by some that Hobbits’ only real passion is for food. A rather unfair observation as we have also developed a keen interest in the brewing of ales and the smoking of pipe-weed. But where our hearts truly lie is in peace and quiet and good, tilled earth. For all Hobbits share a love of thinhs that grow. And, yes, no doubt to others, our ways seem quaint. But today of all days, it is brought home to me. It is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life.
I go to my fathers, in whose mighty company I shall not now feel ashamed.
Part 41 of an incredibly long-winded appreciation of scenery in the Lord of the Rings trilogy x
All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.