Days of Old....

I have recently began reading "The Hobbit" by J.R.R. Tolkien. I absolutely loved the Lord of the Rings movies so I had to read how it all started. Anyway, that isn't the point to which I am getting. Reading about adventures, new lands, old maps on stained parchment paper makes me escape into a world of which I find extremely intriguing. I often think how much fun it would have been to live in times such as those, full of adventure, stories chock full of hyperbole and lore, and rescuing the damsel in distress. Of course, maybe if I was part of that world from long ago, I would daydream about a world full of congested cities, cars that emit enough emissions to create a hole in the ozone the size of Texas and you wonder how they pass the test for their new tags, and corrupt politics. Living in a village such as the one in which Bilbo Baggins lives, in The Hobbit, with a sylvan perimeter, and endless regalement would suit me just fine.

As I drive in to work every morning, I take a back road that has a house nestled up on a hill littered with massive trees. The driveway leading up to the cozy abode gets lost amid the throng of trees halfway up. But it is the bridge that can be seen just before the road vanishes that makes me want to build my own house secluded on a hill with this same structure. It is very reminiscent of that out of the story of The Hobbit or the Lord of the Rings. It is a wooden bridge weathered from years of exposure to the elements and there are six posts, each adorned with a lantern with a sole flame in each. I always enjoy when there is traffic on that back road that I take so that I can pass by slowly and gaze at the bridge leading to the house on the hill and get lost in my mind thinking how it would look if elves, or hobbits, or Gandalf was passing over.