One felt as if there was an enormous well behind them. Filled up with ages of memory and long, slow, steady thinking; but their surface was sparkling with the present : like sun shimmering on the outer leaves of a vast tree, or on the ripples of a very deep lake. I don’t know, but it felt as if something that grew in the ground—asleep, you might say, or just feeling itself as something between roof-tip and leaf-tip, between deep earth and sky had suddenly waked up, and was considering you with the same slow care that it had given to its own inside affairs for endless years.
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (The Lord of the Rings, #1-3)
A precious family popped in for a visit, papa, mama, 2 little babies and one within; an older child becoming independent. They are finding their way on a glorious journey. They see the hills and troughs of life – they rest in the shelter of the tree of life; they are grounded by the wisdom of their forefathers.
Acrylic on canvas, 40 x 40″.