"But why do we have to go into the city? You don't like it there, and neither do I?" Though never leaving the safety of his leafy perch, the bird stared down at the old man, demanding an immediate answer. Hedwig was a creature of formidable size and appearance: an
eagle owl whose wingspan extended nearly two meters. The largest owl in the world, about knee-high to a human adult, Hedwig was quite capable of taking out a cat or even a small dog at a single blow.
The old man looked over and growled, "Stop asking questions. You know why we are going tonight. We go every year at this time. This is the one and only day when the poor men of New Ford can actually see and speak with me and the rest of the inhabitants of Arda. The rest of the year it is useless to try and get their attention. They have their ears plugged up with the noise of traffic and copy machines and subway cars, and their brains are fixed on such mundane topics as mutual funds and stock prices. There has been considerable decline since the days of Ellessar, I am afraid."
"Malarkey!" retorted the bird. "It is because you and the others have faded. That is why they can't normally see you. It has nothing to do with the New York Stock Exchange!"
"Faded?" The old man's eyes flashed with fire as he responded in a harsh tone, "I have not faded. I am a Maia and Maier do not fade. How often must I tell you that. And, as for the others, they have not faded either. It is only a matter of perspective."
"Not faded? How can you say that" Hedwig challenged. "I read it myself in a big, fat book."
"So you have been snooping in my copy of
Lord of the Rings? A dangerous book--I told you to leave it on the shelf. Frankly, Hedwig, you must take everything you read there with a grain of salt. Remember it is the faulty recollections of a man, and what do men know of elves, or dwarves or hobbits or a Maia? They say things only to flatter themselves. It is not we who have faded but they. Their ears are not attuned to the sounds and sights of Arda. They have filled their minds with a lot of rubbish, and it is only on this one night of the year that they can manage to sweep that all away and see the world as it really is."
Hedwig stubbornly shook his head, "That's not what Mr. Shippey or Mr. Hammond say, and it's certainly not what's on the Barrowdowns website, the one we looked at last year when we tried out that terminal in the public library."
"The Barrowdowns? Those poor folk are even worse than Master Tolkien! Always carrying on with long vapid posts and never getting outside to mix with the animals and hobbits and even the occasional elf who still live on their own planet. No, I tell you the truth. Men pay such attention to dry details that they usually fail to see what is important in life, what lies just below the veil waiting for them to take a look. Truly, Hedwig, in many ways I feel sorry for Men. And I consider it my duty to go and have a look on this one night of the year and see if I can knock any sense into their heads. So no more complaints! Hop on my shoulder, and we'll be off to New Ford. Anyways" the old man conceded as an afterthought, "there'll be plenty of cats out roaming the street, so you may be able to pick up a bite to eat."
With that last assurance, Hedwig finally nestled on Aiwendil's shoulder, and the two set off to the east, striding on towards New Ford.