Since individuals are always walking, I’ve been here before pilgrims walked on me. Walking to a stream or hot springs for water. Collecting fruits and nuts. Trudging home after working in the fields, planting and harvesting wheat, oats, corn. Only a few on the path are consciously pilgrims.

My surface varies. Much, much older are the materials which are the base for my path. Sometimes the path is jagged rocks or fist-size stones. Painful for you I know. Sometimes the path is simply packed clay. Both the rocks and the packed clay can be treacherous when wet or muddy. Sometimes I meander through meadows with poppies, daisies, ice plants. Sometimes I let you admire the wonderful trees close to me. Consider yourself fortunate when you walk on a soft path through the forest. At times, I let you enjoy such shade; other times, I’ll make sure you sweat profusely, and I’ll hear your words that are unrepeatable. At times, the light mist or fog creates a mysterious, otherworldly feeling; other times a downpour makes you seek shelter.

Others have “added” to my path. The Romans certainly did.

The Romans cleared a straight way, laid down a bed of sand and gravel, then placed flagstones raised above the surrounding terrain. You still walk on their road in places. You moderns lay down concrete and asphalt. On a hot day, why would you want heat from the sun above, and heat from the asphalt below?

Sometimes you simply add steps to help you climb.

There are worlds on each side of my path. Gardeners and wood-cutters. Young children holding onto each other during a class excursion; groups of high school kids gossiping or bragging until the very moment they have to enter the school building. Friends catching up on family news as they buy their daily bread; old men sitting on the same bench, having the same daily conversation they’ve had for years.

Sometimes you’ll see ruins, roofless farm buildings and rusting machinery. Sometimes you’ll see old, old homes announced by a line of cypress trees. Sometimes you’ll walk past old, but proud and still important buildings, a Municipal building where individuals make community decisions or a church where individuals pray and worship.

When you notice the ever-present world, I nod to myself, “This person gets it.” Since you require rest, I’ll let you get to your night’s destination, maybe even to Rome. Yet, I’m glad when you notice the “world between” those nightly destinations.

The path isn’t just for you. Other pilgrims walk. Although brief, enjoy the friendships made. Even if you have to show kindness through actions rather than speak in a shared language.

A word of advice. Every once in awhile, turn around. See what you’ve passed from another angle. Some sites are worth looking at twice, at least.

Another word of advice. Watch what you assume. While you may be walking from Canterbury to Rome, some pilgrims may not be. One, two, maybe three, may be walking in the opposite direction. Don’t think that they are confused or clueless! They may be walking from Rome to Spain’s Santiago de Compostela. Be careful when you judge other walkers, other pilgrims.

A final word of advice. You will find me inspiring and exhilarating; you will find me frustrating and difficult; you will find me boring and monotonous, usually around three in the afternoon! Such is my path. Allow yourself each of these emotions; recognize each of these emotions, and all the other emotions that I foster.

I hope that you reach your nightly destination, your Rome destination, your ultimate destination. I guarantee nothing; I offer much.

Buon Camino