Moments by StarSpray

Nothing to Do Except to Be

Caranthir went wandering often alone. In this new, second life of his, he wished to do things differently. Tirion was left behind, and the lovely cultivated gardens and the neatly tilled fields, in favor of the wild meadows and the tangled woods. There, he would find a quiet place—a mossy log, or the broad branches of a tree, or just a shady hollow among tall fragrant ferns—just to sit. To watch. To breathe.

He watched flowers unfurl their petals one by one in the misty morning, and counted the veins in their leaves, and he learned all the ways of the smallest woodland creatures as they went about their busy little lives. He dug his fingers and toes into the loam and breathed deeply the smells of earth and water and of green living things. There was nothing to make, nothing for him to do, except to be.