I am glad you are here with me. Here at the end of all things, Sam.

Grief is the price we pay for love

All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. 🦅

Come not between the Nazgûl and his prey!

Photo of a miniature hobbit hole ornament from Weta Workshop in from of a copy of the book The Hobbit

Happy Hobbit Day to all who celebrate!

#Tolkien #TheHobbit #LOTR

Night always comes

Fyn

‘In the morning counsels are best, and night changes many thoughts.’ #Theoden

Homunculus Loxodontus - Wikipedia

nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homuncu...

That image stands in LUMC hospital in Leiden

LUMC

Haha, the traitor 😶‍🌫️

93

Maeglin sitting on the ground of a cave looking very sad. In the back there is a stylised waterfall

Alone with my thoughts...

#MelancholyMonth #Maeglin

Eens

Finrod walking up a hill in Valinor.

Sauron walking into Mordor.

Valinor | Mordor #TheRingsOfPower

He wore a tall hat with a blue feather; his jacket was blue, and his boots were yellow.. 🪶

stay

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Beautiful tree! Do you know if someone made an image of Telperion with dark green leaves?

Most images of him are silver of white and without flowers

He lived down under Hill; and a peacock’s feather nodded in his old hat, tossing in the weather