16. Avallónë

The city’s grand as Minas Tirith, but larger and more cheerful, with tree-lined lanes and gardened terraces. The buildings look like they’re built out of the earth, elaborate sand sculptures my grandchildren would’ve loved to see. Flowering vines climb up the walls and sunlight bathes the streets.

A receiving house for newcomers sits a few blocks from the dock. Many who are on the ship make their way there. I’m shown to a room on the first floor with hobbit-sized furniture. I take a nap to sleep away my sea legs, then wake an hour later, hungry and eager to explore.

Gandalf’s disappeared but there’s food and fresh water waiting on the table. I eat and set out to see the city. I find a bakery, cobbler, market, and a library that’d take an elf’s lifetime to read through. The books are all in Elvish but some have pictures, beautifully drawn. There’s gardens everywhere and elves of course. 

Oh, the Elves! So fair and tall, and joyful and humble. Those untouched by the troubles of Middle-earth are even more regal than those I’ve come to know back home. Some are sitting and talking, painting or reading, or walking with their little ones. I’ve naught seen an elven child afore. Even they are taller than me! 

Everyone knows me, stopping for a word or two that I mostly don’t understand. A few speak Westron and talk to me about this and that. Mostly they want to know about home and what’s going on there. A few suggest places for me to go that Frodo had enjoyed visiting: a meadow, a forest trail, a shaded glen. I must remember to visit these places when I can.

I head back to the receiving house, humming happily and eager for supper.

GF 9/8/12

To be continued...