From vacation, that is. One must take time away from the daily routine. That need to find 'escape' is one which moves us all. Tolkien decried the scornful stigma of weakness that the term has taken on. 'Why should a man be scorned if, finding himself in prison, he tries to get out and go home?' he asked in his essay 'On Fairy-Stories'. He placed escape as the center horse of a troika between recovery and consolation pulling the sled laden with the richly imbued tales of humanity. (My own words, if you'll pardon.)
My personal recovery and escape from the hum-drum lead me to the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains in Colorado. After weeks of unseasonable rain, the skies were high and clear. Most surprising was how verdant the land, normally dun-brown by July, appeared under the bright mid-summer sun. Brilliant. Spring in the midst of high summer. That remarkable combination would have been enough to satisfy my need to escape and recover. Yet, the best was saved for last.
On my last full day of vacation, my wife, Linda and I, in the fair company of our friend, Larry, attended a Sunday picnic under huge, Entish cottonwood trees on a lovely grass lawn beside a small lake in which the majestic peaks of Evans and Long reflected clearly. This picnic was made more extraordinary as it was an informal Moot of the Misty Mountain Smial of Colorado. They had most graciously arranged this outing so that I might meet with them. And moot with them.
Upon arrival at the pristine little lake-side park, we spotted a picnicking group of adults and children who had posted a placard with 'TORN' written cryptically on it. We tentatively surmised that it was a family name and went in search of our rendezvous with the Smial-ers. We soon realized that the 'TORN's' were the only picnickers around. Sideling to within ear-shot, it was only matter of seconds before I overheard the words 'wizard' and 'elves'. This was the place! We had arrived in the Misty Mountains.
I called out a simple greeting in two languages - English and Elvish. Members of the group sprang from their places, smiles on their faces and gaily returned my greeting in both languages. Introductions were quickly made all round followed by an invitation to join them in their repast. The board was enticing but the excitement of meeting with this group of Rocky Mountain Tolkienists disallowed me taking a seat and munching out. There was too much ground to cover, too many things to discuss. ('TORN'? Of course the more astute readers recognize it as the acronym for 'The One Ring.net.)
