Last evening, as the sun had set and lit the tracing clouds ablaze, I was sitting on my bench in the front yard under a camillia bush smoking my Dwarven Pipe with a weed mix of Burly and Cavendish, reading Breaking Of The Fellowship. As I neared the end of the chapter the skys waned to a leaden gray and the street lamp cast an orangish hue. I tapped out my pipe and ended the tale reading on the sofa. Thinking of Boromir and how he struggled with the Evil of the Ring and overcame it, and his own desires.
Closing FOTR and placing the dust jacket back round the cover I had a moment of pause, and was not in a hurry to take out TTT, but shall take up the tale tonight again and think of you and Boromir as he defends the Hobbits and keeps his honor, showing the best qualities of the Lords of Gondor.

Namarie onóno nin, Linaewen.