after climbing to the highest point on the camino and leaving a stone at the cruz de fierro, i spent the night in manjarin.  manjarin is an abandoned medieval village with a population of 1-a man named tomas who has converted one ruined building into a beautiful haven of peace, hospitality, and good food.  there is no running water, and the heat comes from a stove in the center of the room, with the flue exiting up through the attic where 4 of us slept.  it was lovely.  i definitely wouldn´t want to live that way every day, mainly because the restroom facilities were in a ruined building across the street that has a small gate you go through to use the....out house, really.  but tomas´s was so warm  and welcoming, it seemed like a palace.  it was also very nice to sleep with only 3 other people in the room, since most of the albeurges have at least 4 or 5 bunk beds in them.  this night was extra special because no one snored!  unless i did, of course, but i don´t think so   tomas is also a knight templar, which is the ancient order of knights that date hundreds of years and were protectors of the pilgrims walking to santiago.  so being there that night felt like an ancient custom being played out.  the film crew had been with me, and stayed for dinner. after dinner andres, the sound man, picked up the guitar and played while we all sat around the small area by the stove/heater. 
i had had a moment of inspiration earlier in the day after talking with a french woman.  after she walked ahead, i was singing, and thought about something catalina had said after she heard me sing úse me´at san nicolas.  she said that whoever wrote that song must be a very special person.  it´s true, rickie and michael are very special.  it made me think, though, of how they write songs, about gettting inspiration.  the thought crossed my mind, ´wouldn´t it be great to write a song´ .  just a few minutes later, i started singing a song, making up the words as i went along.  and, it was in french!  i stopped, got out my notebook, and wrote down several verses of the song that just popped into my head, as if someone had put it there.  i remember angela telling me about sitting in her backyard one morning, and seeing a cat jump over her fence, walk through her yard, then jump another fence into her neighbor´s yard.  she had the thought, ´wouldn´t it be nice to travel like that´.  well, a few months later, the people living in the house behind them whose fence she sits near moved, and another family moved in.  they have a little girl about grace´s age, and the two girls have set ladders on either side of the fence so they can travel back and forth from each other´s houses easily...just like the cats!  angela shared it with me to demonstrate how sometimes our prayers can begin, ´wouldn´t it be nice...´  it worked for me with writing the song!  when andres was strumming the guitar, i got out my notebook, and sang him what i had written and he played chords behind it.  it was amazing to hear the song i had sung through the mountains now with a guitar in a little albuerge in a room of friends. 

i am writing this from the other side of ponferada, a little town called cacabelos.  in a few days i will climb o´cebreiro (pronounced o-thay-bray-AIR-oh because the c is pronounced like th).  it is steep, and is the first tall land mass the westerly winds hit so the weather is notoriously unpredictable.  that will be the beginning of galicia, which everyone says is the prettiest part.  i will blog again, even today if i can.  but all is well, life is good, and i am walking tall, uplifted by your prayers, good wishes, and love.

peace and blessings-
a