In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole. It was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort. Bright round doors in summery hues dot the lush, grassy hillsides of Hobbiton like wildflowers. Behind each doorway, comfortably appointed burrows wind into earth: each one home to a hobbit, or a family of the Shire's rosy-cheeked little-folk. Every hobbit-hole is unique, expressing the personality of its inhabitants with colour and prettily adorned with gardens, furniture and the rustic debris of everyday life.
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