Arafed view of a castle on a hill with a river running through it

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Atop the hill
,
the once-vibrant vista now appeared sickly before me
.
The emerald hills lay barren and scorched
,
the charming Hobbit holes ransacked and ruined
.
Plumes of dark smoke billowed up from the charred remains of Hobbiton
,
the acidic smell of burning thatch stinging my nostrils even from a distance
.
The Great East Road was lost amidst the desolation
,
all signs of life extinguished
.
The flowers were but wilted brown stems poking through ash and mud
.
Scorch marks blackened the field where celebrations once filled the air with laughter and song
.
The gentle burble of water was replaced by a foul stench rising from the river’s polluted flow
.
Birds no longer flew in these cursed skies
.
Looking out
,
all I could see was the creeping blight of Mordor
.
The idyllic Shire of the past was no more
,
replaced by a bleak wasteland
.
The shadows had fallen over Middle-earth
.
But it was not too late
.
Gazing upon the destruction below
,
a cold anger stirred within me
.
We would fight
.
We would rage against the dying of the light
.
Hope was not lost
.
The memory of peaceful days gone by strengthened my resolve
.
Mordor would not claim this land without a battle the likes of which they had never seen
.
The Shire may lie in ruins
,
but the spirit of its people endured
.
We would fight to reclaim it
.
By Joshua Holford Photography Award Winning detail and flare 8k fz80 inspired by J
.
R
.
R
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Tolkien --auto
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