|Flanks clad in Douglas-fir, blackberry, rhododendron, Oregon Grape, and Paleozoic sword ferns.|
You never know what you're going to see in Mount Tabor City Park.
Bronchitis be damned! I could not resist the call of clear blue skies and sun. So I took a stroll up that way this afternoon. When I got to Tabor's crown, the city to the west was awash in bright sunlight. But eastward, Old Man Hood was wrapped in cinerious gloom; he did not deign to show himself.
I swear I espied Noldor walking among the big Dougs. Should I have been surprised? Tabor would be one place where you might see them, were you to see them. But it is definitely not something you see every day.
|From here, whence, O Noldo?|
I imagine that these last few lingerers were making their way west, to the sea, where they will embark at last on their voyage to the Undying Lands. It is time for them to accept the pardon of Manwë, seated on his throne in Taniquetil.
Long ages past, Fëanor, in his pride, called them to arms against the Great Enemy, Melkor, whom Fëanor named Morgoth. They say that the power of Fëanor's voice rose to such heights that none who heard it could resist. And he led them forth from Aman to win the Silmarils from Melkor's crown.
And we all know how that turned out! (Tolkien fans will know, anyway.)