Striding

For me the most romantic character in the Lord of the Rings is Aragorn; the exiled descendent of the kings of Gondor and reluctant heir to the throne. He walks the forests of Middle earth, and the early chapters of the book as a mysterious loner. Dark and capable, he is totally self-reliant and bestrides the world following his unknowable whim. The strings of society and responsibility flap and wave around Aragorn like shadows, he has turned away. People know him as Strider, he walks the land. Solitude is his shield, it protects him from pain and loss, he is free, yet alone.




It was grey in Sydney today and I zipped my jacket high before stepping out into the park. Cold water dropped and splashed sporadically from sodden leaves and my boots left deep impressions in the sand which had washed from a flower bed across the footpath. The wind whipped and distant church bells chimed like elvin music floating through Loth-lorien. For a moment I’m Strider, no bags, no gear, no kids. It’s just me and the winding trail ahead. A solitary path from the EV charger behind the museum, through the Domain parklands to the Art Gallery.
Not a rugged dash into the wild to avoid the Nazgûl, but still, it felt great to just walk.


Anyway, the point I’m lurching towards is that sometimes it’s nice to stomp around by yourself. The obvious next point is that Aragorn only really made his way to fulfilment by taking on his responsibilities and joining his family (fellowship) at the gallery (siege of Minas Tirith). So, that is what I did. Which was great, the Archibald is on.


Love striding by myself, probably love walking with my family more.