So this is it, our new home. I bend down and scoop up a handful of grey sand from the beach. As I stand up again and look back at the other ships coming in to the shore, I slowly let the sand trickle back to the ground from my hand.

It’s less than a month since this first fleet of the Edain set out from Lindon, and here we stand now, not just on a new shore, and the edge of a new land, but at the edge of a new life.

Three days ago, the Elf who steered this ship said she saw land in the West, and we were pleased to be nearing the end of the journey, anxious to reach this new land of ours, far away from the trials and sufferings of Ennor. None of us were truly sailors before we set out; and if truth be told, I believe those who found themselves afflicted by seasickness would have been anxious to reach any land at all, and would not have objected had we landed on the ruinous sides of Thangorodrim.

Círdan’s people in Lindon taught those who wished to learn how to build small boats after their fashion, and many of the people who dwelt at Sirion already knew how to handle such boats. Those who had clung to whatever high ground they had found in the slowly sinking remains of Beleriand during the war, before they ran out of still higher ground to escape to, and had to cross over to Lindon on whatever would float, were more than eager to learn this skill. I wonder how many, Man or Elf, survive thus even now?

Yet I’ve also seen a love of the sea for its own sake awaken in the eyes of some, and I regret this, for our purpose is not the journey, but the destination, and for myself I am relieved that the journey has not awoken my father’s and grandfather’s restlessness in me, as I had feared it might. No, the sea is no more to me than the road to our new home.

From this low shore I can no longer see Eärendil’s beacon that guided us, hidden now beyond the hills. Ah, father, you were called to abandon your people and thus serve them, but my responsibility lies here, on this island with my people, in staying, not in leaving – still, I too merely choose, or perhaps am chosen, to follow my own inclinations.

Some of the people had been worried about our provisions, fearing they would not be enough to last us until the first harvest. I was able to reassure them by telling them what Eönwë had told me; that there is plentiful game to be caught in Andor, and the sea around it is teeming with fish, and nuts and fruits already grow wild here, thanks to the care of the Eldar who prepared the island for our arrival. Even much of the city that is to be our capital has already been built for us by the Elves, and no doubt it will be well built and fair beyond imagination.

I am grateful for their care and that of the Valar, yet it galls me as well that everything has been prepared for us so thoroughly, for what challenge can there be for us in this new land? It is not that I wish our first winter to be as lean as some of the winters we survived before, or wish to see starving children again, and I am truly grateful beyond words to the Valar for this rich land. And yet … one day the people will become restless, and the pursuits of peace and prosperity will seem dreary, and this land will no longer be enough for them. That day is long removed, but it will inevitably come. Even my small gift of foresight can see that much; still, even the Valar cannot see all ends, good or ill.

There isn’t a man or woman aboard these ships who doesn’t come here with high hopes, grateful to the Valar for the gifts they have granted the Edain in return for our deeds and those of our forefathers. Yet we all also come as refugees from a land shattered by war, and there is pain, loss and regret in as large measures behind us as there is hope ahead. Not the least of the regret and loss is for those who chose to remain in Ennor, though many more will no doubt follow us here; and Círdan assured me that he would see to the building of ships and the guiding of those who may do so.

All that we own we carry with us, from the heirlooms of our forefathers, to the tools we need to build our future in this land. Even with all that has been prepared for us, what we make of the land and of ourselves is still up to us.

Whatever lies ahead though, tonight we will feast! At least if the stores of beer and wine survived the journey, for I am certain the care of the Valar does not extend to having a feast waiting for us here on the shore.