This is my third week on the Way of St. James, and I think I’m finally getting the hang of it (but perhaps not French computers, which is making this post excruciatingly difficult). After walking about 400-500 km I have recognize certain sounds that pop up wherever I happen to be. If you close your eyes after reading this, hopefully you will get a sense for what it sounds like to walk The Way.
1. The wind rustling through trees and high grass.
2. The distant roaring noise of a car approaching you on the highway, and the rush of sound a it passes you.
3. The cacophony of buzzing you hear — either high tension power lines overhead, or a symphony of crickets chirping in the grass.
4. The unreciprocated echo of church bells tolling in a small village, fading into the still heat of midday.
5. The constant sound of your feet: scratching dry gravel, stomping through high grass, pounding hot asphalt, crackling over dead grass.
And if you listen closely, through the white noise of today you can hear the past whispering to you in the trail of dust in your wake.
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