flowers of the camino

The land around here is flat, mostly farmland. As the sun goes down behind the Sierra Callosa the flowers of the camino come out. Groups of local people walking the circuit of the country road. Fast walking, always in conversation about something. Taking in the evening air, the company of friends and neighbours.
You will see this every evening, and when I am here I love walking the camino myself. Obviously it is different this year, as I am still hobbled. I notice the withered artichoke flowers and fallen orange fruit. So I don't go far but I go far enough to see delicate flowers in bloom. To raise my gaze at the swifts and swallows in their aerobatic displays. The excitable wee sparrows fussing in the palm trees.

Memories bloom...

Of driving the children home from school with them trying to grab at the greenery out the window, of walks and runs. Birdwatching: an eagle suddenly crashing from a tree feet away from me, chasing the hoopoe; butcher birds pinning their prey to thorns. Birthday celebration bike rides. Snakes squiggling through canal water. A fill of citrus blossom.

... and the people pass in groups happy chatting their daily walk away before the evening meal. And I turn back , not having got very far,  carrying these scenes with me. It is time for my own evening meal shared with family, consecrated under the clipped finger nail of a waxing moon, fairy lights in the town square.