First, I must apologise for the long silence. I had every intention of sharing thoughts with you more regularly, but one month turned to two, and then the world changed its footing beneath us. Many folk packed up their belongings, some smials closed, others opened, and a great many of us found ourselves blinking in the unfamiliar light of a well-known yet strangely reshuffled world. I, too, was caught in that great shuffle.

Songburrow, which had been the Bramblefoot home for many years, is now behind me. I shall remember it fondly—its mossy lanes, its tall hedges, and the scent of pipeweed in the evening air. But as with all good things, that chapter has gently come to its end. And so, I now write to you from 4 Chalk Road in the flourishing hamlet of Bramblebury. It is a newer neighbourhood, to be sure, but one full of promise and warmth. My dear partner, Floralind, is just next door at number 5, and we are surrounded by good folk—some old friends, some yet to be met.

Bramblebury has the hum of potential about it. It reminds me of a spring garden just waking from its winter rest—quiet for now, but soon to burst with colour, song, and fellowship.

We have also passed through the turning of the year and the quiet joy of Yule without reflection together. I do hope it brought peace and good company to you all, wherever you found yourselves. And now, with spring newly arrived and the first blooms peeking through the soil, I feel it is time once again to lift the pen.

I know the recent changes have left some feeling a little adrift. Shifts in the earth—even gentle ones—can unsettle the roots. But I encourage you, as always, to look not just at what has been lost, but at what might now be grown. Our traditions, our tales, and our tea all travel with us, wherever we plant our feet. This is still the Shire, and these are still our stories.

In the coming weeks, I’ll be dusting off my chair by the hearth and resuming my monthly writings—small reflections on life, change, and the little comforts that carry us through them. If you’d care to walk this path with me again, you are most welcome.

As always, if you have thoughts to share or questions to ponder, I would dearly love to hear from you. My letterbox at 4 Chalk Road is open, and my kettle is on.

Yours in quiet fellowship,

Brawil Bramblefoot