Tag Archives: The Lord of the Rings

September 2025

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For several weeks–in a messy corner of my mind–I have been working on a blog post. So far, that post exists only as an unruly pile of ideas waiting to straighten themselves out. Fall has come, though, and I need to be reading, writing, and walking out in the beautiful world.

For many years, I have been searching for the right time to read J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings another time. I was hoping that if I waited long enough, I could approach the book with the absolute wonder and absorption that I felt when I read it for the first time in the fall of 1967–fifty-eight years ago. A little over half through The Fellowship of  the Ring, and even though I am familiar with every scene and much of the dialogue, I am again wonderfully absorbed in Middle Earth. Turns out, I started reading September 22, which LOTR aficionados may recognize as Bilbo’s and Frodo’s birthday.  I count it a fortuitous beginning,

our current copy of the The Lord of the Rings

Mostly what I want to write today are Tolkien’s words that give me comfort.  I hope they give you comfort as well.

There they (Frodo and Bilbo in Rivendell) sat for some while, looking through the window at the bright stars above the steep-climbing woods, and talking softly. They spoke no more of the small news of the Shire far away, nor of the dark shadows and perils that encompassed them, but of the fair things they had seen in the world together, of Elves, of the stars, of trees, and the gentle fall of the bright year in the woods.  (last page of the chapter “Many Meetings” in The Fellowship of the Ring).

Here in Arlington the oppressive hot weather ended many weeks ago and autumn is beginning in earnest. The walks I take now also give me comfort.  Below are some photos from recent walks.

bluestar and mountain mint

mallards at Ballston Wetland Park, Arlington, Virginia

inland sea oats

swamp milkweed

monarch and goldenrod, September 29, 2025

fiery skipper on blue mistflower

In the Bleak Midwinter

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Last Friday, January 31, 2025, it rained most of the day. In the late morning, I walked over to my friend Donna’s place. We’ve needed the rain and, as a gardener, I especially enjoyed my rainy walk. As always, I had a good time at Donna’s home. We talked about many things: our families, books, our aches and pains, the political situation, and Donna read a poem.  She made a good loaf of bread, which we enjoyed with butter, jam, and tea.

In the  mid-afternoon, I went home to prepare for dinner guests. Our daughter and son-in-law (Sarah and Mike) and their dogs (Connor and Susie) were coming over. Tom and I enjoy getting ready for these guys, because we always have a pleasant and mellow time.

Two Things Happened I think I might have been setting the table. In the late afternoon, I happened to look out our big balcony window. Somehow, I didn’t have the good rainy day feeling I had had earlier, I saw dark menacing clouds–crazy dark and menacing–and almost palpable. I felt like I was in Minas Tirith gazing eastward as the shadows of Mordor advanced.* I don’t think I am exaggerating. I wanted to write to some of my fellow The Lord Of the Rings aficionados to share my experience, but it felt too acute and sad to share except with Tom. A little while later we were fixing dinner and we heard a loud crash. For no reason that we could see, the Ben Shahn dove print that our friend Laura gave us about 50 years ago had spontaneously fallen off the wall.

Shadows of Mordor and the peace dove falling down: We need the free peoples of this earth of ours to come together to fight the scourge we are facing at the hands of the current U.S. president and his coterie. I want to be as cheerful and brave as a hobbit. I am not cheerful or brave, but I am trying.

Note: The dove sustained no injuries. We will find a stronger fastening and put her up again.

How the Birds Fly by Ben Shahn

*I first read The Lord of the Rings when I was a 17 year old college freshman. I guess I have read the trilogy at least six or seven times–twice (with Tom) aloud to our children. You can read about Minas Tirith, bravery, good, and evil in Book Five of LOTR, which is in The Return of the King (book three of the trilogy).

Road Trip 2014: The Road Goes…

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The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say

J.R.R Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Kolob Canyons, Zion National Park, UT

Kolob Canyons, Zion National Park, UT

 

I am here to tell you that, just as Bilbo said, the road does go ever on and on. Furthermore, as he implied (see above), this road goes on both literally and figuratively.

In our travels I sometimes wear a maroon hooded sweater that makes me look like one of the dwarfs in The Hobbit (not, I note, at all like a hobbit wearing a hooded Elven cloak from Lorien).

maroon hooded sweater with orange knapsack

maroon hooded sweater with orange knapsack

Before I go farther on this path: Yes, I am one of those The Lord of the Rings junkies, common in my generation. I first read the trilogy when I was seventeen and I have read it at least eight times since. Two of Tom’s and my happiest parenting times were when we read LOTR aloud first to our older children and then later to our youngest.* I am going on about all of this because, as a supposed  “literature” person, I feel a bit defensive about reading the trilogy eight times instead of ever wanting to go back to The Magic Mountain or In the Heart of the Heart of the Country.

I am speaking literally and figuratively here:

  • I always traveled with a dear companion, who, day after day, kindly hurt my broken wrist–my P.T. exercises–so I would heal, and then warmed my side of the winter bed for me.

    Red Canyon, Dixie National Forest, UT

    Red Canyon, Dixie National Forest, UT

  • Sometimes the road was cold and lonely. I remembered the dead and worried about the living.

    winter road

    winter road

  • Sometimes the trail was alight with the sunlight glinting on the wings of hundreds of butterflies freshly transformed in the pine woods of the high country. I didn’t manage to capture a photo of this, but the magic remains within us.

    Glacier Trail, Great Basin National Park

    Glacier Trail, Great Basin National Park

  • Sometimes the path seemed dangerous—high and winding and steep—but I think it was only the fear within me.
LaVerkin Creek Trail, Zion National Park, UT

LaVerkin Creek Trail, Zion National Park, UT

  • Sometimes we joined family and old friends along the road or met new friends–warmth and safety amid the cold, the heat, and the winding road.

*In my family, I am famous for always crying over the death of Boromir. I want to be a hobbit—merry, strong, and steadfast—but I am more like the frail man of Gondor (inside, of course, Boromir was a doughty warrior on the outside).

Beach Road, Meher Spiritual Center, Myrtle Beach, SC

Beach Road, Meher Spiritual Center, Myrtle Beach, SC

More to come, I think.