singing

There are few things I truly miss on the Camino. Every once in awhile a new one occurs to me. Today I missed music. I wanted to hear singing. I wanted to sing along. The symphony of the fields and frogs truly is lovely, but I wanted J.T. to bring SexyBack. I wanted Mozart. I wanted 2pac. I wanted The Pogues. I wanted the B. Boys. I wanted Gillian Welch.

I tried singing, humming. It was okay, but I´m tuneless so it wasn´t satisfying. I tried imagining songs I listen to while running. That was moderately successful but not enough. I tried to imagine walking along with friends who can sing. That pretty much failed. I wanted real music. Real music to walk to.

Just as I was despairing, I heard a tune rising behind me. The tune was sweet, melodious. It sounded exactly right. I slowed so that I could eavesdrop on a pilgrim who was singing to himself. As he drew closer, I turned and complimented him, and he excused himself for singing a German folk song. We walked along a bit, and I chided him for stopping. He told me I had made him blush.

We talked for about an hour. We have been walking for about the same length of time and were reflecting on our progress, on how we have changed, about our attitudes toward the Camino and toward life. We spoke about the kindness and magic of the Camino, about how many wonderful and surprising and eerie and coincidental things take place. We talked about how how the things only happen when we make ourselves open to them happening.

Our conversation ended slowly, and I walked ahead. Eventually, he began to sing again. I smiled and slowed so that I could listen in but I couldn´t get the right rhythm. At the next town, I stopped to wait for him and invite him to have a drink with me but his rhythm carried him forward. As he walked on, he thanked me for my company and handed me a 4 leaf clover.