Continuing the contemplative tone begun last week of sitting by a fire (preferably under the stars) and reflecting on the past, present and the future, here are lyrics to a song from J.R.R. Tolkien’s Fellowship of the Ring:

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.

(Proper citations and more information located here.)

Giving credit where it is due, I can directly trace my life-long love of camping to reading Tolkien’s The Hobbit in the sixth grade. That novel resonates in ways the above also evokes: a connection to people and places from times past, a consideration of the vastness of the world and an appreciation for my diminutive place in it, coupled with deep longing.

The grammatically unsound phrase I like to use is, “It gives me the wistfuls.” Camping, gathering around the fire, visiting national parks, and now writing this blog are all pursuits of ringing that emotional bell.

Oh, but we’ll get to that… (Again and again, I’m sure.) What about you? Thoughts?