The Lazy Rooster

Mom and I have decided that if we ever open a bar or pensión or casa rural we will call it "The Lazy Rooster".  Here's where we got the idea: yesterday we were walking to Villafranca del Bierzo through some random town I can't remember the name of, and we heard a "cock a doodle doo!" in the yard next to us.  I looked at my watch - 9:30am.  "That rooster is late." I commented to Mom, and this led us to a discussion of the fact that on the Camino the albergues kick everyone out early (usually by 7) but the bars don't open till 8 or 8:30.  This makes it quite difficult for those of us who require coffee to function in the morning.  So, we will not kick people out early, thus earning the name "The Lazy Rooster".  

The walk today made me marvel at the fact that there are atheists in the world.  I don't mean to sound judgmental or to belittle the viewpoints of others, but everywhere I looked today, I saw the hand of God.  Our first seven mrs took us up and over a range of hills with chestnut groves that were covered in mist.  After we descended into the next valley the remainder of our hike was through a river gorge, mountains towering on either side. Again, it was misty, but this just added to our sense of wonder as we passes by fields of cattle, or sleepy towns on the hillsides, or even the ruins of castles standing guard on the ahoders of mountains.

It was a magical walk, and yet it was also an interesting juxtaposition of time and place.  This river gorge serves as the conduit for an ultramodern interstate highway.  As is often the case, the interstate cuts a fairly straight path with tunnels and very high bridges to spam the valleys.  The interstate bypasses the old national highway 6, much like our old pre-interstate highways.  This highway meanders a bit more and goes through many of the little towns.  Think "Route 66" and you've got the idea.  Our walk took us on the even older roadbed of the national highway before it was straightened and repaved, in other words, we walked on the ancient roads that were paved before highways began to be improved and rebuilt.  It was fascinating to look up and see both the national highway and perhaps the interstate with traffic flying by.  How much you miss when you only travel the "main road".  Again, people were very friendly.  One couple in particular, in their 70s leaned out their window, waved, and wished us Buen Camino! as we walked by and greeted them.  This is a common occurrence, people speak to you, and vice versa, as you pass them on the street, and they are almost all positive.  It can't help but lift your spirits.

Thus, the route lent itself to pondering, and now, 21 days into our adventure, I find that I am beginning to feel a sense of renewal with respect to my world "back home". Before I left, I was rather world-weary and felt as if I was generally going through the motions: at church, at home, and yes, even at work to some extent.  I am hopeful that I will be able to return home with a new sense of joy oin living, in the people I get to interact with, and in life in general.  I also have been able to sort out, at least internally, what things are really important, and which are not.

Is this what I wanted from the Camino?  Perhaps.  I prayed and hoped that God would speak to me and work on me on this trip.  I've not heard his voice, per se, but I think that I've been spoken to an changed nonetheless.  Perhaps it's not in the manner I hoped for, but neither did I want to undertake this adventure and telling God what I wanted him to accomplish.

Tomorrow is a ten mile day, but the first give involve a 2000-ft climb.  Dad is bound and determined to walk with us once again, and Mom and I are rather wary, but Daf will not be dissuaded.  I will be praying that Dad does not do himself further harm.  I suppose we now know where  I inherited my tendency toward mulishness.