[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

I didn't think to generate this much interest in such a short time. Thanks for your appreciative comments.

my congratulations go out to you

Thanks. The best thing about the whole experience is that it was its own reward. Plus I now very nearly have that poem memorised (the English translation, that is: I'm good, but I ain't that good).

Truely an honor it must have been to lay eyes upon the great ones resting place, and to even lay a hand on it.

I cannot begin to describe how privileged I felt to be allowed a completely private moment at the memorial. I have no doubt that on a summer's afternoon, though I would have been able to see everything more clearly, I would have had to join a queue, and rightly so. I would recommend to anyone that they make the trip, although it's probably best done during the day. That fence wasn't an easy climb.

Once I'm come to England,(which I crave indeed) in case you'd be so kind to repeat the journey (no farther than the fence, in case you feel one time is enough and won't step inside) I'll be glad to have your company on the similar journey

I'd be honoured.

Thank you so much for sharing such a richly meaningful, memorable, and reverential tribute.

You're most welcome, Mithrandir. I wanted to share the experience as much as possible with those who aren't so fortunate as to live in the south of England. My words are not sufficient, though. Do it if you can.

I hope to also make that journey, someday soon. (when I eventually make it back to England, in about a year or so)

I should if I were you. No picture I have seen does justice to the experience. Next time, though, I'm hoping to go when it's warm. [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

"thanks for sharing"

You especially deserve it Lindil. Don't think I'm not watching the Silmarillion project.

Well, well, well, Squatter, I suppose it's high time that I ask you to marry me again.

I see: if you plan to take advantage of my weakened state then you're no mean tactician. [img]smilies/wink.gif[/img]

fences and sheriffs be damned, eh?

It must be some of the dashing and fearless (yet hopelessly inebriated) Lord Etceteron rubbing off on me. A couple of posts as his sarcastic steed and I'll be cured.

Perhaps someday I will come to England and visit Tolkien's resting place as well.

You would not regret it, I assure you. Provided you could catch the blissful three days between the sleet and the rain.