We woke this morning to a perfect day for walking. The sun was shining, a few cotton ball clouds were scattered across the sky as though they had been painted in, and a cool breeze blew across our path as we wandered through farms and forests once again. We walked at a relaxed pace, enjoying…
Each day of our walk on the Camino de Santiago has had its own personality. Day One was an adventure: we were starting out on something new in a place we did not know. Day Two was a climb: the first nine miles of our day were uphill and presented quite a challenge. Day Three…
Today was our third day walking on the Camino de Santiago. We have now walked more days than we have left to walk; we have spent more days in Spain than we have left to spend. The mist that traveled with us yesterday turned into rain overnight and stayed with us as we began the…
We began our second morning walking down the hill from our hotel in Portamarin to cross the river and continue our trek towards Santiago de Compostela. It was the last time we went downhill for several hours. The rain clouds above us felt more impending than threatening. The cool mist of the morning was made…
We left Sarria this morning with out much sense of where we were going. Yes, we had a map. Yes, we knew our destination was Portomarin. But neither offered a reference point that connected to our lives beyond we were setting out on the first leg of our journey on the Camino de Santiago. We…
Over the past few couple of weeks, I’ve taken two long plane rides — one to California and one to Spain. In the process of trying to find some sense of place in the midst of my time travel, I wondered (out loud, I think) if we were meant for such things, if we lose…
While in Texas, I had a chance to speak at St. Mark’s Episcopal Church in San Antonio. They hosted a “Food and Faith” luncheon that included recipes from the blog and the book and some great jazz piano. They also recorded my talk and have it available to listen and download at their website. You…
We’ve been wandering on streets where the stones tell stories and the river laughs and lingers just below the city streets: the veins of history flowing underneath the skin of sidewalks and skyscrapers. Time feels as wide as the boulevard in this middle child of a city; kindness is common currency, spoken and shared where…
I’ve been in the arena enough to know my lines. when it came my turn — our turn — we sang show a little faith there’s magic in the night — and then cheered as though we wrote the words or at least made them famous . . . two nights later I was cooking…
In the waning minutes of this Easter night that will slip into a day that will mark, among other things, the running of the Boston Marathon and our twenty-fourth wedding anniversary, I am grateful for life, for the signs of resurrection, for the indefatigable light that refuses to be extinguished. I am grateful for another…