"In his dream, Sam stood beside him on top of the Hill on a clear autumn day – if it was the Hill at all, for the old oak no longer grew behind the thatch of thistles and ryegrass. Instead, a low thicket of blooming briars surrounded two apple trees. Frodo breathed in to ask about it, but the air was so clean in his chest and the scents it carried so mellow that all he wanted was to keep them in, and he couldn't speak ..."
(Spell, by Cara Loup)
(Castle Mound, Oxford)