After two days I am still stuck in the marshes. At a cumulative mileage of 189.32 (304.7 km) I still haven’t managed to clear out of the festering sludge and clouds of bugs. So I am still trudging through the marshlands near my town. Part of me really wants to forget authenticity and go for a nice path on dry ground, but the hobbits didn’t really have a choice in the matter so I continue through my torture of ankle deep sludge.
In the entire Fellowship of the Ring the Midgewater Marshes take up half of a
page. Very little is mentioned past the discomfort and bugs which occupy the
infernal lands. For half a page, and about two days’ worth or suffering, the
hobbits and Aragorn struggled through the marshes. Whenever they camped they were damp and
unpleasant, unable to sleep in the lonely and unpleasant country. The only
thing that seemed to live in the marshes were midges. You can hazard a guess as
to where the Midgewater Marshes got its name.
Part of me wishes that the hobbits
felt as miserable as I do trudging through the marshes. The other part of me,
however, recognizes that the hobbits are going through much worse. After all, I
am not the one trying to evade the Black Riders.
Later in the evening on the fourth
day since Bree, Frodo sees flashing lights up ahead. Strider compares the
lights to “lightning that leaps up from the hill-tops,” but they are too
distant to make out. Later in the journey the party would learn that these
lights are Gandalf making his stand on Weathertop.
No comments:
Post a Comment