Snow is flying outside the window, but I am dreaming of springtime on the Camino - of poppies along the road to Santaiago de Compostela; flocks of sheep grazing on the green hillsides; of castles in Spain reminding me of bygone days.
I am one step closer to making my dreams come true. I have purchased tickets. I am committed to dates now.
As I bide my time, quietly anticipating my walk across northern Spain, I find myself remembering what it was like to be in the early stages of pregnancy. I wanted to share my excitement and enthusiasm with everyone I met. I had to learn to be discreet and to refrain from overwhelming people with my most favorite topic. These days it is not an unborn child that preoccupies me, but this 800 kilometer walk of gratitude.
Yes, I want to talk about it. But who really wants to hear my rambling thoughts on this endeavor that is alien to so many of the people I know?
So, mstly, I simply cherish my hopes and dreams and thoughts about this special adventure. I savor my thoughts. I have private conversations with myself.
With the Camino on my mind, I seem to see things through new eyes (as Proust says). On my daily dogwalks in the snow and mud of winter in Santa Fe, I consider the terrain and climate. I compare it to my memories of life in Spain. I look at the vegetation, the clouds, the sky...all of them are viewed through the lens of how they compare to the Camino. I am obssesed on things-Camino.
For now, it is enough to have my tickets and on this cold, blustery winter day, to dream of a sunny springtime in northern Spain.
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