The Shire is so pretty!
We have been exploring it the last days while Father does business with the horse breeders of the land. It is as they said though - the small people breed mostly ponies, and buy their workhorses from the men of the north. Perhaps Father will want to go there, but I hope not.
But it is nice here too. The Hobbits are all very friendly and make good food. If I lived here, I would be round as a loaf in no time! Witimanu likes it too, I think. She is forever grazing in the meadows and enjoying the sunlight. Maybe she wishes to become a pony and remain in the Shire, as well?
But not I. I long for the horizons of the Mark again. And to ride, ride wherever I want and be free, not be bound by a caravan. And a bed - a real bed! I don't know how long it has been since I have slept in one. I always liked sleeping outside under the stars in the Mark, but enough is enough.
I am starting to feel powerfully homesick, even though it is so beautiful here. Everything is starting to bloom here. It just reminded me that even if we started now, we wouldn't be home before the simbelmynë has withered, and the spring festivals are over. It made me sad, somehow.
And Mother, and even my sisters. I miss them. I would even go and climb the fences and pick the flowers with them if I could be with them in the spring festival. And this time I would be good and not try to make them laugh, I promise.
If only I could.
