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13.04.2024

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Do not risk getting entangled in the woods of Laurelindo´renan. That is what the Elves used to call it, but now they make the name shorter: Lothlo´rien they call it. Perhaps they are right: maybe it is fading, not growing. Land of the Valley of Singing Gold, that was it, once upon a time. Now it is the Dreamflower. Ah well. But it is a queer place, and not for just anyone to venture in. I am surprised that you ever got out, but much more surprised that you ever got in: that has not happened to strangers for many a year. It is a queer land. And so is this. Folk have come to grief here. Aye, they have, to grief. Laurelindo´renan lindelorendor malinorne´lion ornemalin, he hummed to himself. They are falling rather behind the world in there, I guess, he said. Neither this country, nor anything else outside the Golden Wood, is what it was when Celeborn was young. Still: Taurelilo´me¨a-tumbalemorna Tumbaletaure¨a Lo´me¨anor that continue reading what they used to say. Things have changed, but it is still true in places. See Appendix F under Ents. 468 T HE L ORD O F THE R INGS What do you mean. said Pippin. What is true. The trees and the Ents, said Treebeard. I do not understand all that goes on myself, so I cannot explain it to you. Some of us are still true Ents, and lively enough in our fashion, but many are growing sleepy, going tree-ish, as you might say. Most of the trees are just trees, of course; but many are half awake. Some are quite wide awake, and a few are, well, ah, well getting Entish. That is going on all the time. When that happens to a tree, you find Strategy games android some have bad hearts. Nothing to Strategy games android with their wood: I do not mean that. Why, I knew some good old willows down the Entwash, gone long ago, alas. They were quite hollow, indeed they were falling all to pieces, but as quiet and sweet-spoken as a young leaf. Strategy games android then there are some trees in the valleys under the mountains, sound as a bell, and bad right through. That sort of thing seems to spread. There used to be some very dangerous parts in this country. There are still some very black patches. Like the Old Forest away to the north, do you mean. asked Merry. Aye, aye, something like, but much worse. I do not doubt there is some shadow of the Great Darkness lying there still away north; and bad memories are handed down. But there are hollow dales in this land where the Darkness has never been lifted, and the trees are older than I am. Still, we do what we can. We keep off strangers and the foolhardy; and we train and we teach, we walk and we weed. We are tree-herds, we old Ents. Few enough of us are left now. Sheep get like shepherd, and shepherds like sheep, it is said; but slowly, and neither have long in the world. It is quicker and closer with trees and Ents, and they walk down the ages together. For Ents are more like Elves: less interested in themselves than Men are, and better at getting inside other things. And yet again Ents are more like Men, more changeable than Elves are, and quicker at taking the colour of the outside, you might say. Or better than both: for they are steadier and keep their minds on things longer. Some of my kin look just like trees now, and need something great to rouse https://warstrategygames.cloud/strategy/dota-2.php and they speak guys download android in whispers. But some of my trees are limb-lithe, and many can talk to me. Elves began it, of course, waking trees up and teaching them to speak and learning their tree-talk. They always wished to talk to everything, the old Elves did. But then the Great Darkness came, and they passed away over the Sea, or fled into far valleys, and hid themselves, and made songs about days that would never come again. Never again. Aye, aye, there was all one wood once upon a time from here to the Mountains of Lune, and this was just the East End. T RE EBEAR D 469 Those were the broad days. Time was when I could walk and sing all day and hear no more than the echo of my own voice in the hollow hills. The woods go here like the woods of Lothlo´rien, only thicker, stronger, younger. And the smell of the air. I used to spend a week just breathing. Treebeard fell silent, striding along, and yet making hardly a sound with his great feet. Then he began to hum again, and passed into a murmuring chant. Gradually the hobbits became aware that he was chanting to them: In the willow-meads of Tasarinan I walked in the Spring. the sight and the smell of the Spring in Nan-tasarion. And I said that was good. I wandered in Summer in the elm-woods of Ossiriand. the light and the music in the Summer by the Seven Rivers of Ossir. And I thought that was best. To the beeches of Neldoreth I came in the Autumn. the gold and the red and the sighing of leaves in the Autumn in Taur-na-neldor. It was more than my desire. To the pine-trees upon the highland of Dorthonion I climbed in the Winter. the wind and the whiteness and the black branches of Winter upon Orod-na-Thoˆn. My voice went up and here in the sky. And now all those lands lie under the wave, And I walk in Ambaro´na, in Tauremorna, in Aldalo´me¨, In my own land, in the country of Fangorn, Where the roots are long, And the years lie thicker than the leaves In Tauremornalo´me¨. He ended, and Strategy games android on silently, and in all the wood, as far as ear could reach, there was not a sound. The day waned, and dusk was twined about the boles of the trees. At last the hobbits saw, rising dimly before them, a steep dark land: they had come to the feet of the mountains, and to the green roots of tall Methedras. Down the hillside the young Entwash, leaping from its springs high above, ran noisily from step to step to meet them. On the right of the stream there was a long slope, clad with grass, now grey in the twilight. No trees grew there and it was open to the sky; stars were shining already in lakes between shores of cloud. 470 T HE L ORD O F THE R INGS Treebeard strode up the slope, hardly slackening his pace. Suddenly before them the hobbits saw a wide opening. Two great trees stood there, one on either side, like living gate-posts; but there was no gate save their crossing and interwoven boughs. As the old Ent approached, the trees lifted up their branches, and all their leaves quivered and rustled.

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