“I will end my story with the relation of an incident which befell me a few days ago. I had been with my reapers, and, when they ceased their work at noon, I had lain down under the shadow of a great, ancient beech-tree, that stood on the edge of the field. As I lay, with my eyes closed, I began to listen to the sound of the leaves overhead. At first, they made sweet inarticulate music alone; but, by-and-by, the sound seemed to begin to take shape, and to be gradually moulding itself into words; till, at last, I seemed able to distinguish these, half-dissolved in a little ocean of circumfluent tones: ‘A great good is coming—is coming—is coming to thee, Anodos;’ and so over and over again. I fancied that the sound reminded me of the voice of the ancient woman, in the cottage that was four-square. I opened my eyes, and, for a moment, almost believed that I saw her face, with its many wrinkles and its young eyes, looking at me from between two hoary branches of the beech overhead. But when I looked more keenly, I saw only twigs and leaves, and the infinite sky, in tiny spots, gazing through between. Yet I know that good is coming to me—that good is always coming; though few have at all times the simplicity and the courage to believe it. What we call evil, is the only and best shape, which, for the person and his condition at the time, could be assumed by the best good. And so, Farewell.”

— Phantastes, by George MacDonald

As a solitary traveler nears his destination the bright lights of the mountain village welcome him to a cozy home.

“I lay and looked through the eastern window of my room. The curtains of pale blue silk fell like a cataract over the windows. A large green marble basin, which stood on a low pedestal in a corner of my room, was overflowing like a spring, and a stream of clear water was running over the carpet. And where this carpet, which I had myself designed to imitate a field of grass and daisies, bordered the course of the little stream, the grass-blades and daisies seemed to wave in a tiny breeze that followed the water's flow.

“My dressing-table was of black oak, with drawers all down the front. These were elaborately carved in foliage. I happened to fix my eye on a little cluster of ivy-leaves. The first of these was evidently the work of the carver; the next looked curious; the third was unmistakable ivy. I saw that the branches and leaves designed upon the curtains of my bed were slightly in motion. Springing from the bed, my bare feet alighted upon a cool green sward; and I found myself under the boughs of a great tree, whose top waved in the golden stream of the sunrise with many interchanging lights.

“Faint traces of a footpath, much overgrown with grass and moss, were discernible along the right bank. ‘This,’ thought I, ‘must surely be the path into Fairy Land”.’

— Phantastes, by George MacDonald

“Beyond them was a wide level space, as though the floor of a great hall had been cut in the side of the hill…, and along each wall stood an aisle of trees.… At the far end the rock-wall was sheer, but at the bottom it had been hollowed back into a shallow bay with an arched roof: the only roof of the wall, save the branches of the trees…. A little stream … fell tinkling down the sheer face of the wall, pouring in silver drops, like a fine curtain in front of the arched bay.

“Treebeard lifted two great vessels and stood them on the table. They seemed to be filled with water, but he held his hands over them, and immediately they began to glow, one with a golden and the other with a rich green light;… Looking back, the hobbit saw that the trees in the court had also begun to glow … until every leaf was edged with light: some green, some gold, some red as copper.”
— The Lord of the Rings, Book III, Chapter 4: Treebeard

Happy birthday to my twin nieces, Esther and Elodie! This is the sort of scene I'd like to be looking down on - they have so much to explore!

A look below the surface of the river that has been seen in others of my scenes in the cwm.

Cwm Solitude
Welcome to the Cwm
Cwm Waterfall
Window on the Cwm

This is the reverse of my Cwm Waterfall image, this time from behind the waterfall (and it's late summer rather than spring). This perspective was inspired by J.R.R. Tolkien's description from the chapter "The Window on the West" in The Lord of the Rings.

“They stood on a wet floor of polished stone, the doorstep, as it were, of a rough-hewn gate of rock opening dark behind them. But in front a thin veil of water was hung, so near that Frodo could have put an outstretched arm into it. It faced westward. The level shafts of the setting sun behind beat upon it, and the red light was broken into many flickering beams of ever-changing colour. It was as if they stood at the window of some elven-tower, curtained with threaded jewels of silver and gold, and ruby, sapphire and amethyst, all kindled with an unconsuming fire.”

I like to get plenty of use out of settings once I build them, so this render is around the corner to the left of my Cwm Solitude scene. I wanted to create a waterfall in the scene itself - often they're just a flat plane with a waterfall image that placed in the scene, or the waterfall is added later in PhotoShop. But this is an actual 3D waterfall that works from different angles. Eventually I hope to do another picture looking the opposite direction down the stream into the valley.