I could have gone back to the river route this morning, but why would I dabble with danger, when there had been thunderstorms all evening and so it would certainly have been even more muddy today than it was yesterday? Besides, I would have had to pass That Snake on the road. As it turned out, it was dangerous enough anyway without going looking for more trouble.
Losing the way is NOT one of the dangers, not when the countryside has been littered with these big blue signs. They demand so much attention that the little old mojons are hardly even noticeable now. I must say it felt more adventurous looking for the way markers in past times, but give it another twenty years and these signs will be tattered and less confronting.
So busy thinking about that was I, that I almost tripped over this:
Actually, that was the second living thing I could have trodden on. The first was a little bird hopping along the pavement in Villalcazar de Sirga. Every few hops it looked scared and fluffed its feathers and looked around furtively, and it was cheeping helplessly, but no mother came to rescue it. I stopped to give it a moment to fly off, but although it seemed to try, it couldn’t get airborne. I couldn’t wait all day and so I kept walking and it kept hopping ahead of me. I am guessing it was in much more danger than I was.
The other bird was quite a different story. There was a murder of crows, and the danger is clearly in the name. I kept my sticks at the ready, and stopped long enough to snatch only a single photo of one of group.
Thankfully I managed to avoid any drama, just as I had avoided sunstroke earlier
Just think of all the dangers we narrowly miss and take for granted! I was grateful I did not end up in this toxic looking stream that made me think of the drinks some of my kids consume
There was another kind of danger. It looks pretty enough…
…but you wouldn’t want to get too close
Prickles to the right and cars racing past to the left (at a perfectly safe distance actually, but I would be in danger of losing the story if I told you that)
Before getting as far as this sign, I had stopped to scribble the town. This is a dangerous activity every time I do it. A bottle of India ink is not to be trifled with. I have spilt some accidentally while drawing once and not put the lid on properly once, which caused a catastrophe…but not today
There was a danger shops would be shut today, so I had bought some basic supplies yesterday. I was delighted to find vegetables today and so made a delicious salad for lunch to go with the empanada I had carried from Frómista. (I didn’t buy the peppers or artichoke hearts – they were on the “free to use” shelf in the fridge)
After safely arriving, I took a quiet day. There are lots of things to see, here in Carrion, but I decided it was more important to keep off my feet. I spent the afternoon at this table…
…writing some notes for Rob’s trip later in the year, tidying up my journal (there’s a dangerous activity: people come and look and tell you how fabulous you are and you could explode with pride…seriously though, this is happening a lot and I find it very uncomfortable. I thank them and ask if they have taken any photos that will bring back special memories for them…or if they tell me they are drawing or painting too, I ask to look at their work)
Anyway, there I was happily sitting at that table working on this blogpost when over the PA system some classical music started playing. The second piece was Pacelbel’s Canon in D, which has a habit of moving me to tears. So I closed my eyes and listened, hoping I would simply enjoy the piece this time. No, it was not to be. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I was not sad; I was just moved by the beauty and emotion. I’ve already told the family I’d like this piece played at my funeral!
It turned out the music was a gentle way of announcing prayer time.
This dear sister spoke slowly and clearly so I could understand and the Korean lady could use Google translate. She also repeated everything in French for someone else in the room. And then she somehow convinced all of us very reluctant pilgrims to sing a song in our own language. The French guy chose a song with more verses than a twentieth century hymn. I was in no danger of doing that!! The Lord bless you, and keep you, make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you, the Lord turn His face toward you and give you peace. Amen.
I dithered about whether or not to go to the mass at the Santa Maria Church.
So glad I did. I hadn’t thought about it being Pentecost. What a lovely symbol to extinguish the candle that has been burning constantly for the past fifty days, because now the Holy Spirit is in each believer, to shine light into the world.
I was sitting quite near the front and did not realise the church was packed. When people started going forward for communion the stream seemed never ending. The little boy sitting next to me commented on it to his parents, so perhaps there were more than usual. When the pilgrims were called forward for a blessing at the end (which has been offered here since the eleventh century), there must have been more than sixty of us!
The famous-in-these-parts Singing Sisters led the songs throughout the service, at times breaking into three part harmony that rivalled Pacelbel’s piece. Whenever hosanna or Gloria in excelsis Deo or allelujah turned up, it was easy to join in! As I say, so glad I went.
Random fact:
One of the crosses reminded me of the one I had seen in Puente la Reina:
SoloWalk2024 