In October, we walked the pilgrimage of the Way of St James (aka el Camino de Santiago) in northern Spain. As we walked we learned we could only go as fast as our feet would take us and we only knew the way by following the marked signs. So, day after day, we trusted the path and the signs and delighted in the unhurried pace and being present to the beauty all around us. One day we were walking up a mountain part of the path and we were deep in conversation so we missed a sign. A little further up the wayward path we heard a whistle…
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