Onwards
Summer’s glow has settled into the tree tops. Gilding the edges of the forests which are radiant with the rich pallet of autumn. Glittering aspen leaves flutter down landing amongst the carpet of red pine needles, soft and rustling underfoot. The cold of night clings to the grass in heavy drops of dew as the dawn stretches up into a misty morning sky. Each day a little different and somehow still the same. Giving way to the cycle of the seasons. Rhythm.
Just 10 days ago, we reached Fisterra… the end of the world… After beginning Camino de Santiago in St.Jean-Pied-de-Point France, my friend and I walked over 780km to Santiago, Spain in 35 days. Ending our journey in Fisterra and the Atlantic Ocean. The vastness of the experience was dwarfed by that of the ocean shore where the land, sea, and sky became one. I had to be a part of it. I walked in. Cold water soothing my tired feet and calves, sand pricking my skin as it was carried in by the rolling waves. The Ocean called to me… letting it pull me further in the waters crashed into my thighs pushing and pulling. My fingers trailing in the swells as they rose and fell. A thousand thoughts yet somehow silent… Standing in the waves with my face to the horizon I couldn’t help but surrender to the fact that everything is always moving onwards. It is a profound experience to just accept that. One that I hope you too can find. Sometimes ‘the way’ leads us to the end of the world, and sometimes it just means to drink the coffee before it gets cold. Our journeys don’t have to be extreme to be profound.
Finally as the tide began to rise and the air grow cold, we sat in the sand to simply watch and listen. Ribbons of purple seashells decorated white sands. Looking closely you could see the sand was thousands of little shells that have been broken down and worn smooth by the ocean. Somehow they are still recognizable. Untold journeys individually, but together… Thousands of ‘memories’ of what they once were all together made up this beautiful respite on which we sat and watched and listened. The sky dressed to match the sea that evening. In rolling waves of blue-gray clouds, reflecting the gravity of the evening. We sat and watched and listened. Slowly cutting the sea from the sky, a glow appeared. Pouring a line of red hot liquid metal, along the edge of the horizon. Lingering there. It burned, we sat and watched and listened.
As we left the beach, the roar quieted, the sunset gave way to darkness, and just like that it was over. No more walking. But that didn’t mean the journey was over. We still had to make our way back home, we still had to come back to house and home and daily life… so we did. We moved onwards. We are moving onwards.
The journey has but one ending which comes to us all… but like the grains of sand, bits of memories and stories, who and what we were can add up and contribute to the beauty of that collective. Perhaps it’s our resolve and character which decide how durable the impressions we leave behind are when added to the sands of time. Perhaps it is our ephemeral exisitance which makes it so precious. Time. If nothing else, I have been once again reminded of how precious of a non renewable resource time is.
I find myself humbled and grateful for my time and place in this world. Despite the difficulties and dark times, it is always an honor to share bread and salt at table with friends both old and new. To share stories and be a part of them. So thank you for being a part of mine…
