Word count: 100
Character: Sam, post-quest
Disclaimer: Tolkien's, etc.
Author's Notes: This one's a bit angsty. For the "Fool" challenge and for rabidsamfan, in honor of Sam's birthday.
As a child, he’d felt a fool grieving such things. Yet every Spring, he wept. How could the trees let go of such beauty, and not hold and cherish it forever?
He knew the blossoms had to leave, to make way for fruit. But it didn’t make the passing any easier.
And it wasn’t until this last October, as he watched the light of the star-glass glimmer and disappear into the West, that he truly understood.
It wasn’t the trees that did the letting go, but the blossoms.
And brushing away a tear, he wept not for the trees... but himself.