My children, my miners. They went to Moria and back and like Bilbo am suspected of having discovered the elixir of life, forever staying young, only yellowing a little from the back, forever pulled up and out by a celestial light.

The scene was a glorious one, saturated with texture and aroma. If I could spend my time here for a day, what marvellous artworks would come of it, what lasting lessons to school me in life. But here, I was transient. Probably tourist, possibly spy.