Dear Mun . . .

Hmmm now, little scribe, do you think this wise? It has been many long years since I ranged as I used, but an old Ent has many things to think on in a new Spring, and I have my own business to attend to, hmm, yes. It cannot fall to my Spring to thaw your dismal Autumn.

But I will have to think on it! It doesn't do to be hasty, and I do, harrum, I do know what it is to be lonely, of course, yes, I do. Betimes it was ever so busy up here; folk of all kinds running there and everywhere in such a hurry. I never did understand why. But they've all gone now, hoom, yes, but for that young Vince creature and his friend-- a nice little thing, he is; his laughter reminds me of, mmm, a thing I cannot remember, and I have found him in my woods, yes, talking to the creatures and bringing news. I do like news.

Perhaps we can just sit in the sun and think together, eh? And then, once we have breathed in the young, strong green and the deep wet of the earth and the golden sunshine and all the little living things under it, then, hrum, we can go for a walk! A good long walk and a sing, lindalë-arin-laicalassë-aurë-esteleórë-u'lómëa. Mmm, forgive me if I fall into my language; I do not always know how to say it the way the hastier folks do. But! A walk, and a sing, and perhaps we will find someone to speak to. That would be good, I think.