Today is Queen Elizabeth’s funeral. The world grieves. When asked “When did you walk the Camino?” My reply will be, “The year Queen Elizabeth died.”
As rain drops freshen blooms, I do not complain when I walk in the rain.
Olive trees can be so broad they can’t be circled with your arms. The trunks are rough and gnarly. Hollow center trees thrive. Some aged trees look as if the tops have been completely severed; yet, new limbs miraculously sprout bringing life. Trunks and limbs are disproportionate. Olive trees simply defy death. Olives simply taste delicious.
Today we purchased 1/4 pound of local olives for less than a dollar.
Plant figs for yourself, grapes for your children, and olives for your grandchildren…a bit of wisdom from CJ.
Grapes for your children.
September sun is low on the horizon making it brutally hot. With this intense heat, I expect ears of corn to shower popcorn any minute.
Surround sound of gunshots popping were heard as we trudge through enormously tall and endless fields of corn. In this maze of corn, only Duncan encounters two beagles and a hunter with rifle in hand. Hopefully it’s not open season for pilgrims.
Like thieves in the night, we are on the way under moonlight to avoid afternoon sun. GPS Camino Apps take away 95% of the stress from finding the route. It’s like being Hansel and Gretel following a trail of cookie crumbs. It’s being prepared for the 5% when devises fail that counts.
To each their own. Some prefer cycling over walking. Some prefer telephoning over silence. But all prefer head-soaking from the city fountain on such a hot afternoon.
Tomatoes blanket the ground like endless fields of Easter eggs. The past days of industrial complexes are pleasantly replaced by agriculture.
Starting with the moon and Orion over head, we are able to walk a Herculean distance. Since Covid, there are fewer accommodations and those open are not always conveniently located.
Linda Scandore 