|Harry, Paddy, Poppies|
June is busy. Lots of pilgrims, and lots of plans. I did an overnighter out west in Galicia, with South African gonna-be hospitalero Gordon and his two nice boys, and then to Miraz, a pilgrim refuge on the Camino del Norte that Paddy and I had a hand in for a while. I met the new bishop of Lugo, and re-met with a publisher who continues to make noises at me, and a gang of lovely English Camino-heads who make little corners of the world go around, and the local salt-of-the-earth barmaid at the center of the universe. What an abundance!
Best thing of all was the long drives there and back, through beautiful, beloved places, in my own company. And stopping, poco a poco, at wineries along the way. (Past caminos introduced me to the delights of Valdeorras, Ribeiro, Albariño, Bierzo, and Ribera Sacra wines, so I came back with beautiful young vino from all different little nooks and crannies of northwestern Spain -- as well as a few "drink it NOW" boxes of plonk from Galician and Bierzo co-operative wineries -- Spain´s best-kept secret.)
We shall see what time and dark and stillness does for their constitutions. If we can leave them alone for long.
I returned to a house full of lovely South African ladies, welcomed and duly blandished by Patrick. And thereafter blandished with a surprisingly dry young Bierzo white Mencia, I found this, which I think sums up a lot of what I love about particular people of Spain:
(I cannot figure out how to make this work smoothly. I will link to it in the next blog. So much for "intuitive posting... I think someone makes this difficult, so someone can make a buck. Sad old world.)
And the photo which opens this post, taken last Sunday on our morning dog-walk. Nothing could be finer than poppies and galgos, a loving spouse, and a community Mass after. Except maybe a vermut, and a hike, and friends who know how to converse.
Life is beautiful, if you let it be. If you just open your eyes and take a good look. It is in there.