Even seated on the side of a dune, the figure was very tall, long legs stretching out over the sand. In his hand was a harp carved of driftwood; its music was wistful and melancholy, blending effortlessly with the soft wash of the waves over pale smooth sand. Gandalf stood for a while, leaning on his staff and listening, Shadowfax grazing calmly behind him. At last the harper looked up.
"Good morning, Maglor!" The humor of his greeting was known to Gandalf alone, but he chuckled anyway. "What are you waiting for? The ship is leaving soon. Come along home!"