Walking The Camino: Puente La Reina to Estella

Day 5. 

We've paused a moment. A grey sky lingers from the previous night's  storm as we make our way through the rolling, pastoral landscape. We are making good time, and I see no other pilgrims in any direction. It's quiet, calm.


 I can hear some birds singing and chirping in the field beside me. I listen to the unfamiliar tune, the wind gently whispering as it caresses the hills. Somewhere in the distance is a road, and I can hear the faint sound of an aged motorcycle zooming by. My lungs drink in the stillness with deep, refreshing breaths. 

"There you are you motherfucker!"  

Christine. She had been searching for a irksome pebble that had been lodged in her shoe. Finding it, she threw it at me as I stood quietly leaning against my staff, the pebble bouncing amongst the stones before coming to rest at my feet. With a smile I gave it a kick, and continued onward. Ever onward.