My porch looked particularly inviting yesterday. Only trouble was it was time for me to leave for my library job. So…I snapped a picture instead. Do you have a favorite place to write, or read, or sit, or dream? My question makes me think of this poem, sung by Bilbo in The Fellowship of the Ring. What a perfect response–anyone else?
I Sit And Think
I sit beside the fire and think of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies in summers that have been;
Of yellow leaves and gossamer in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun and wind upon my hair.
I sit beside the fire and think of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring that I shall ever see.
For still there are so many things that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring there is a different green.
I sit beside the fire and think of people long ago,
and people who will see a world that I shall never know.
But all the while I sit and think of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet and voices at the door.
© J. R. R. Tolkien