I must have been wandering about in the Shire for quite a while. Watching the leaves as the first colors of autumn make their appearance.
The coming of autumn is always a grand time of year. Many memories of celebrations still rest fresh on the mind. And the summer, which has transformed the world to a place of plenty, still lingers on slightly.
Slowly kindling my pipe, stuffed with some fine sweetleaf, I start walking again, and my thoughts go on.
Autumn is grand! For a short while nature will display it's grandest colors and will transform the world to place of strange beauty. But the coming of autumn always makes me ponder too. The coloring of the leaves and shortening of the days seem to slowly make the spell, that summer casts, to fade away. High spirits slowly make room for contemplation. And a feeling, mostly strange to a Hobbit, befalls me.
I had left my fathers farm nearly one year ago now. "Your chance to live life" my dad had said to me. But what does that mean? And how do you live life, once all that was familiar has gone? Surely I have had a grand time trying. I even have found myself a nice burrow in a quiet little village named Harville. And I have felt peace in just going along with the flow. But is that living life? Is that a purpose?
I shrug my shoulders and look up to see a lass walking by with some fresh baked pies. I smile and give her a polite nod. She smiles back to me and walks on, leaving the smell of fresh baked pies.
I'm sure life was easier back on the farm. But maybe, my dad has given me a choice. A chance to decide what to do next.
I think of my grandfather. He always has been the black sheep of the family. "If I want to get my hands all dirty, I'd stick them in a pile of dirt", he had said, just before leaving the farm never to return. He made a decision and he stuck with it. Surely his family did not agree, but he did.
I look up from my thoughts to the leaves, and I realize the shapes of the trees have gotten quite familiar. Maybe it's time to make a decision of my own, I say to myself, walking across the lawn up to the door of my burrow.
As I approach my burrow I see there is a letter sticking out of my mailbox. I collect the letter from my mailbox and enter my burrow. Inside I poor myself a brandy and look at the envelope more closely. Sender Miss Willowwood, it says. I carefully open the letter and start reading. Noticing it's an invitation for tea, I start to smile. After reading the letter fully, I slide it back in the envelope and carefully place it on a shelve.
I chuckle softly and whisper to myself: "Maybe this autumn will bring more contemplation than any ever before"
