Scorched Earth

This part of the forest was burnt to the ground, and the stench of burning lingers in the air.  The soil is barren, bare; rising in a cloud of black dust as I work.

I feel the destruction of the trees in my heart, their suffering as a physical pain.  Yet still I work; digging, planting, watering, tending; so that the forest may grow again.

I turn to the last scorched patch of earth, and stop in awe.  A shoot of green is growing – unplanted, unwatered, untended, but growing nonetheless.

It is a sign.  Though all seems lost, life remains.

Notes:  This is from Thranduil’s POV, and was written for the ‘Earth’ challenge at Tolkien Weekly.