September 23: The first day(s) of autumn

With the passing of the equinox, we really have entered fall. Yesterday, we started out in 4 degree weather, which drove us both into hoods.

I squeaked along in my rain gear with my hood up, virtually eliminating my peripheral vision. When I stopped and turned to face Carey, he was rocking what I can only describe as “Manly Tellytubby”: sunglasses, great knees (still shorts weather according to a Canadian), and a mauve, egg-shaped head and mauve torso, courtesy of his fancy new Patagonia performance fleece. It (he) was a unique (and adorable) sight.

Today started at 5 degrees, but stayed chill longer. We had already dug out our beanies and gloves, so we fended off the cold like normal people.

This morning at breakfast, one of the American women with whom we have been sharing the last few stages, said that the blog she is following for this trip described today’s walk as “the worst: a day of road walking and graffiti”. So, that was a bright start! However, as experienced by us, it was, in fact, a lovely day.

Yes, we walked alongside, or on, country roads. We could see the trucks and cars (and trains) zooming along in the distance on the main road (and high-speed track). But, they seemed like toys and couldn’t be heard above the bird song, occasional noise of tractors and cherry-pickers, and the sound of our own footfalls on crunchy gravel and autumn leaves. The track was planted with maple, and the fabulously named “tree of heaven” (a Chinese invasive with lovely pink seed pods). They formed a shady path, which made for very pleasant, dappled walking and created frame after frame of beautiful views between them.

The graffiti included some obscenity (of course), but also philosophy, kindness, cuteness and artistry…. See the photos in the Week 3 album for examples.

There were also lovely conversations. This afternoon, in the launderette, I spoke with a woman from Marlborough, Wiltshire, (which is where my birth family were and are based), while our clothes slapped and span. She is a vegan, who retired early so that she and her much older husband can explore the world together, seizing the day (and restoring a camper van). Yesterday, we walked for an hour with Bill, a retired doctor from Ohio. He and I shared what I can only call a holy conversation about our mothers’ deaths and the spiritual maturity and human grace they both modeled for us, wishing half as much for ourselves and each other. This morning, as the day warmed, we shared frothy coffees and a thoughtful conversation about immigration with 2 old friends (of each other) from Newfoundland, in the garden of an Albergue with the last of the roses and marigolds flowering in the borders.

No one is on the Camino by accident. For everyone, it is an accretive action. It is not that everyone is seeking, but everyone is receptive, open to what (or who) the path may bring.