…..Langostiere beach, over 2 km of pristine white sand, so laden with seashells the outgoing waves create the music of wind chimes softly catching a breeze….
…..Seagulls squawk, shrill screams urging me to awaken and start a new day
….Click...click...click… walking sticks tap the stone of Rui Santa Catarina just below my open windows. Pilgrims marching in the early morning through a sleepy Finisterre
... A wander on the city beach collecting sea glass for my dear artist friend Jan
….Joyous reunions as pilgrims see each from afar, rushing to embrace in welcome
“ When did you arrive? Did you walk the last four days here? Ohhhh, I am so glad to see you again!” English, Portuguese, Italian, German, Czech, French… It doesn’t matter… The message is understood
…. Cafes buzzing with the passionate voices of Spaniards as mid- day Sunday draws them together in family and community
….Sipping a cold cerveza in the noon day sun, my legs stretched out, welcoming the rest; listening, as a myriad of nationalities chat in harmony around me
…..Bells tolling the hour...a tinny Clang..Clang .Clang….these are not the bells of a wealthy town
…. Enthusiastic futbol announcers blaring from cafe doorways -- TV’s scream the plays of the day as locals and pilgrims alike yell as they pound fists in celebration of their teams
…. 7:30 AM - Feet moving quickly along the street below as cafes prepare to open- only the early morning pilgrims will greet a Sunday at this hour
…. Children trudging up the beach from a romp in the sea, pants slipped to the ankles, a jacket warming chilly shoulders
…. The aroma of garlic and onions wafts from windows above the street front businesses - A Sunday meal in the making
..... Hearts! Capturing hearts and sending prayers for loved ones
Peregrina, I soak in the moments, willing my senses to always remember this Sunday in Finisterre
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