The road West

The sun was shining on the horizon heralding the new day. Just as the new day had just begun so had the new year not that long ago. Filled with the joy of the yuletide, Galmaxthalion once again took off to the wild. The Chetwood was stirring in the morning, the forest-life welcoming the increasing hours of sunlight as the year rolled past the winter solstice towards the still distant spring. Breathing in the cold morning air Galmaxthalion shared some of his rations with his steed, Lossenor, before pulling out his lórien clarinet. The winter night sky combined with the dawn were more than enough to fill his heart and lead him to weave the air in a melody for the forest. While not golden and untouched as the forest from which his clarinet came this one had its own beauty just like each forest has its own. And although not as warm as a winter night in Lorien, Galmaxthalion felt that his time here helped him get more in tune with the season in the wide world out of the enchanted lands. It was not long after his melody ended that a wind blew from the west and Galmaxthalion felt as if the forest itself was singing back at him. It carried with it the air of the havens and the lands in between. A particular location in its way was of special interest to him this day. For in the Shire the preparations for the annual wassail were under way when the hobbits tried to wake the sleeping life for the new year and chase away any bad "spirits" trough music and song. Such annual festivities before the coming of spring could be found in multiple communities but the one in the Shire was especially merry. An event such as this with joyful music, community and nature truly lay near his heart. He thought he could pass for a wandering man if he tried and stay for a while until the festivities were over. As the wind passed he mounted his pale steed and singing merrily he continued on his way west, to song under the trees of the Shire and than beyond.