Today reminded me why I am here and why this trek is worthwhile. Today we climbed another mountain, and this particular one is the most beautiful I have ever experienced. Words can´t quite describe, but pictures would do even worse.

Walking up the first stretch of the pass to O Cebreiro, I found myself on an overgrown path. Wildflower bushes on either side grew so large that they tumbled onto the path like waves crashing on a beach, and shafts of wild green undergrowth shot up so high that they eventually arced gracefully over the path to create a natural cover. It was like walking into enchantment itself, especially as the sun shone to reveal patches of light and patches of shade along the way. Bursts of yellow and white brushed my cheek as I walked by, and in the meadow nearby was a literal carpet of purple and blue wildflowers. At some points I was hemmed in by moss covered stone walls and trees fully covered with bright green and yellow mold. The stone path wound steeply upward, and each turn showed me the meadow below and yet higher vistas above.  A smile spread over my face automatically and didn´t stop until it hurt. This, I thought, is why I walked the camino in Spring.

I was also feeling my oats since walking upward is my strength. I actually walk faster going uphill, and even though I was breathing hard, I loved feeling my muscles strain. The work of the walk today was a riot, and I didn´t want to stop, that is until the final few kilometers when I was dog tired and wet.  I´m not sure why I like the work so much. Maybe it´s the Protestant work ethic I was given growing up, or maybe it´s just me enjoying what I´m good at. Regardless, I was passing people right and left, even when it began to rain and we sank our feet deep into mud. I didn´t care. I just kept walking and climbing and couldn´t wait for the views at the top. As we peaked onto the final ridge into O Cebreiro, I turned to see a steep valley below, shrouded in mist and rain, but the yellow wildflower bushes still burned through the smoke, creating a deep and lasting image in my mind of the final mountain before Santiago.

I wonder why people are fascinated by mountains. They do feel ancient and infinite at the same time, past and future held together and offered to the person who scales the summit. On top of the world, you feel that mighty things happen, as William Blake said, when men and mountains meet.

On top of this particular pass is the village of O Cebreiro, a medieval-feeling village completely made of stone with thatched roofs made of broom. Mist and rain alternate with sun to make this a perfect end to a lovely day. Who knows what tomorrow will bring. But for now, for today, I am eager to see what mighty things happen on top of this mountain.