God. Again. And again.
by Captain Bradley
I found God in several places and faces this morning. It was pretty easy.
El sol. The sun. It rises everyday, everywhere in our solar system. And there it went again today.
Spain 🇪🇸 takes beautiful photos when the sol makes her 14 hour, daily appearance. God certainly makes great things happen here. Our sun ☀️ is at the top of my list, since Earth depends on it.
Lots of pilgrims leaving or passing through Foncebadon at sunrise, which was tempered by descending winds with thick clouds off Mount Irago.
I walked alone. A bike or two passed by. That was it.
2.5km later of beautiful vistas to the east, I arrive at El Cruz de Ferro. Half dozen pilgrims there taking turns for photos. I took these:
Then, I placed and arranged our prayer stones for our family loved ones on a spot with flowers for now and protected from the 300,000+ pairs of feet that go up and down that pile of stones below the revered Iron Cross.
God was on and is in the cross. Great to be back there and to pray one long prayer this Camino. 2 years has made a big difference, it seems.
The vistas. Oh, those Godly vistas. Scientists have spent a century or two trying to understand how another tiny blue marble hasn’t revealed itself. Only one with the ideal relationship with its sun. Hmmm. To me, I see God smiling down upon this.
I hear God in every greeting, every hola, Buen Camino, and buenos dias. That’s real social media of human nature. No iphone needed. No translations required. One language for all. God’s Camino works very well.
Then, I was eerily all alone again. God’s dark side came through with heavy clouds and cold winds swept over the other side of the mountain.
Then, burnt landscape showed up…surrounded by new growth that is thriving.
The Old Testament darkness was replaced by a bright light and my New Testament light, warmth, and green growth. Just in God’s time.
God just kept the wonder coming. One view. One memory. One after another.
As I rounded another Camino corner, I found my town for this night. Acebo.
I was met with “Completo” early and wondered if Molinaseca was ready for me. This very historic town is beautiful but maybe not for me.
When I reach the last stop, flags waving from many countries…well, I had to ask. Popped in. Young lady explained that the Albergue dorm is available for €10 and dinner for the same. Not sure to stay or go, I hear a beautiful English accent from the dining area. Sweet family of 4 sitting there finishing breakfast. They asked all questions and I answered. They were a joy, with two girls that were our girls age back when we took them to B&B’s and the like. We talked for a while and then we were interrupted.
Young German fellow yelled “Brad” and we were reunited. 3 Germans, one man + two young ladies, are here. We dined together day’s ago.
R&R for two days. Nice place. We all leave tomorrow, but they will leave me.
My heart ❤️ is in Molinaseca in any Camino. My perfecto Espana village for picnics, chilly water, sun, and lots of food options. The Camino provides…
Back to my Albergue, the two girls from England told me that the pool was freezing cold. I believe it.
Fair warning. I took my vino tinto and a chaise lounge and parked myself under the furthest thatch umbrella. Nature took its course and I siesta’d for two hours.
Up and rested, I headed back up into Acebo. Not much going on, but the B&B gal spoke exceptional English and my vino tinto & plate of charcuterie came out to my patio seating. It was over an hour in a garden well spent.
God’s creations were many right in my face.
I paid my €11 and ventured north. Lots of laundry to go with peregrinos hanging out. Made it to the top and the town intro sign and turned around to head home.
What do I smell???? I enter an Albergue and follow my nose …I take a left into la cucina. There he is. Older. Wiser. Been doing this a while…I push the stringed beads aside…no door is without loud beads. I take a left, enter his cucina , and I say “Hola!” He says the same and cuts short mi espanol. “American ?” He says. Si. Turns out that this tiny Albergue has a chef from N. California and his name is Walter. Can’t make this up.
He’s a joy. We chat. He cooks. Smells divine. I tell him where I’m from and pardon myself when a peregrino needs his attention. Anyway, I have my own peregrino dinner for €10 to attend. Off I go.
If my first course is any indication. Well. Perfecto. It is an insalata work of art.
Everyone else is late or, in 🇪🇸 , perfectly on time. I nibble on my queso & Jamon as long as I think is appropot. Bon apetit, Bradley.
Others made it. All sat and kept to themselves…for a while.
Americans are rare around here. My “look” was discussed again. How do Italians and English and Germans at our table avoid their look? They were more fun to chat with as dinner proceeded.
My young Germans stopped by one last time. It was sweet. Snapped last photo for my memory. Very sweet and curious peregrinos.
Night is falling en Spain 🇪🇸!
God saying “goodnight, my child “
Buenos noches, my God.