*drumroll* The Return of the Daily Drabble!
Well, it's back.
My muses are officially back, so I'm going to restart the daily drabble. They're excited. I'm excited. And it's also the first day of Spring (although Maryland doesn't know it, with temperatures hovering around freezing this morning) and one of my favorite days of the year, so it seems a fitting start for the season.
For those of you who need a reminder, this is how the daily drabble works:
- I will write a drabble a day, based off of the word of the day provided by Dictionary.com. For those of you who wish to grab the word for yourself (in the likely event that I miss a day or post late), the word is available through their website or also through their LJ feed dictionary_wotd. Sometimes, when I'm feeling frisky, I might write drabbles about things other than the word of the day, like today, when I will write Spring drabbles.
- I will post the word of the day, its definition, pronunciation, a few examples of its use, and etymology.
- The daily drabble will either include the word of the day or be based off of the theme of the word of the day. So if the word is "obstinate," I might write a drabble including the sentence, "Feanor is obstinate." Or I might write a drabble about obstinacy in general. But don't expect that the word will always appear in the drabble.
- I want my friends to drabble with me! So if the word of the day or the special theme of the day catches your fancy, join me in drabbling. And please let me know that you did by sharing your drabble in a comment or posting a link so that I can read your drabble too.
- Generally, I write Silmarillion drabbles. But the DotD is not limited to that. (For example, I might also include the occasional Midhavens drabble, although all of my original stuff with be friend-locked.)
- I'm not always very loyal to the DotD on weekends or holidays from work. Contrary to popular belief, I do have a kinda-sorta life...but I will try to catch up when I return to work (and regular lounging on the Internet).
Here, then, is the word of the day for 20 March, the first day of Spring.
paragon \PAIR-uh-gon; -guhn\, noun:
A model of excellence or perfection; as, "a paragon of beauty; a paragon of eloquence."
"Even his friends and business associates, men and women alike, were paragons of health: avoiders of fatty foods, moderate drinkers, health-club habitues, lovers of cross-country skiing, weekend canoe trips, and daylong hikes in the North Woods."
-Alvin Greenberg, How the Dead Live
"Voters, if they chose, could easily convince themselves that the people running their government were faithful spouses and temperate drinkers, paragons whose public images were in perfect accord with their private behavior."
-Gail Collins, Scorpion Tongues
Paragon comes from Middle French, from Old Italian paragone, literally, "touchstone," from paragonare, "to test on a touchstone," from Greek parakonan, "to rub against, to sharpen," from para-, "beside" akone, "a whetstone."
The Fate of Flowers
Flashing eyes, quick hands. Words bright and fresh as rain. The son of the King.
He is everything that I am not: beautiful, confident, graceful. Gifted. So why does he want to marry me?
Me: Nerdanel, thick around the hips and sluggish, nervous in speech. Why?
He is a flint struck and touched to a candlewick, his very presence an explosion of light in a room. He is a paragon of every virtue of the Noldor.
And he wants to marry me. Me!
Giddy, I’d agreed, but I wonder…I wonder at the fate of flowers in the shadows of trees.
Next comes a double-drabble (drubble?) in the spirit of Spring, about Maedhros' first spring after his captivity upon Thangorodrim. It has a very original title.
Also, I did something along these same lines for autumn, called "Awakening".
We had spring in Aman but in name only: the Blossom Festival, honoring Vána, and songs about growth and life, empty because weren’t these our gifts every day of the year in Valinor?
In Middle-earth, I have learned the beauty of spring. From my bedroom window—I am still confined to bed by the good intentions of my healers and Macalaurë—I watch as green dusts the land and shy, brave leaves creep forth from buds in the trees. This morning, I’d awakened to sweet birdsong like none I have heard since leaving Valinor, my cheeks soaked but not by tears of pain—not that to which I have become accustomed—but the kind that come when one’s joy cannot be contained by his body.
So I crept passed my brother’s vigilance—his cloak tight around my shoulders—and walked with the new grass poking between my toes.
After twenty-five years of agony, I appreciate what I left behind on the shores of Aman. And as I turn my face to the warmth of the new Sun, I have hope, for I know that this blessing shall return anew each year, that there shall never be winter without a spring.
I'm dedicating this next one to my pals ann_arien and digdigil for their wonderful friendship, everlasting patience with me, and constant inspiration (and perviness). If you happen to read a little subtext into this one, well, so be it.... >;^)
Spring in Himring
Spring in Himring, a paradox: The calendar marks the day, but there is a fresh scrim of snow upon the ground. In my study, my numb fingers do not want to write, and the heat of the fire warms only my skin. Inside, I freeze.
But the calendar says, yes, today is Spring.
I return to cold words about war and diplomacy.
A knock at the door: “My lord, your cousin Fin—”
But he pushes past the servant before the announcement is finished and with matched cries of joy buried in his warm embrace, I think, Spring has come.
Am I addicted? Noooo, not me....
This last one is not a fanfic. I repeat: not a fanfic. Please suppress your gasps, you are frightening the muses.
Well, if you would like to believe that it is a fanfic, we will say that it is Macalaure speaking to Vingarie.
If you would like to believe that it is not a fanfic, we will say that it is Dawn speaking to her husband.
Either way: Bobby, this one is for you.
In a year of springs, joy for me is the moment that you arrive, and I believe all the clichés about love might be true: flowers at your feet, my heart singing, the stars smiling. I might even believe in souls, just so I can believe in soulmates.
A supernova of emotion—I catch your face in my hands.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine….
I used to cry at this song as a child, yet I played it relentlessly upon the piano.
Please don’t take my sunshine away.
For spring brings summer, then autumn. Then winter.
And it's Spring! I'll be updating throughout the day with drabbles about Spring and the themes associated with Spring, and I invite you all to join me.