This morning, Bubo and I took a delightful hike up through the woods. With the fresh snow fall muffling sounds, I felt as though we were alone on the earth. Of course, the normally noisy forest inhabitants were quiet; my hiking companion is a great-horned owl, after all.
I feel so fortunate to have Great Great Uncle O. Underhill’s house to call my home. It fits me like a glove. Yes, perhaps because it is mysteriously the mirror image of my old house in Brooklyn. But there’s something more here. Which brings me to today’s word.
Hythe is a noun that means a small port or haven; sanctuary. The word is considered obsolete except in the names of towns like Rotherhithe, Queenhithe, and Lambeth. No one seems to know exactly how the word came about, and it can be found in J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Fellowship of the Ring.
I find this house tucked into the woods in the Green Mountains quite a hythe.
