"All that is gold does not glitter,|
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king."
I'm from the North, now temporarily moving to the South. (But no, I am not the King of Gondor.)
And I've always desired to spend winters in front of a hearth in a small cabin on my own. With my cat.