Two days back down from the mountain on the other side…

Another couple of huge days… for coming down’s as big a deal on the body–and the soul–as it is going up.

First light, as I head alone down the mountain on it’s western side. (And there’s my friend, the morning star, still keeping such good company.)

It’s cold up here, so I just love the coming of the sun.

Such lovely Spanish-Celtic countryside.

This is the land of cool bright sun turned into cool fresh green grass turned into cool creamy milk.

So much here is about the presence of the huge and healthy patient dairy cows.

Early in the morning you can hear the humming vibration of the milking machines just before you arrive at each village.

I can’t get enough…

The beauty and the bigness of this place lasts forever out the miles.

And as we come down into the oak forests…

The path is covered with acorns.

But the grass stays greener everywhere you look.

Walking through some places it’s easy for the mind to believe in fairy tales.

Remind me to tell you that deep-dark forest story when I see you in person! Might as well have been in Narnia!

I left to walk alone (don’t ask why!) through the deep and moonless, rainy, pitch-dark faerie woods three hours before sunrise with but a tiny suitcase light, the battery duration of which I have no idea.

With the owls I begin to hear, and the black and bright yellow newts shining on the path inside my tiny ring of light, and the huge wild boars and the roaming wolves I have plenty of evidence to know are there. And super steep, wet, rocky, narrow, slippery trails. And the mystery lights that begin to appear in the woods. Wow.

I found out who I pray to when it’s all on the line.

What an experience. So glad I did it! Would never do (under those conditions) again!