walking all day

I was so much older then I'm younger than that now

(Friday, 15 December 2017, at 10:30 am in Keflavík, Iceland) awake at a hotel on the North Sea near the airport in Keflavík, Iceland at ten-thirty in the morning just before dawn and all is color from deepest rose to the color of the source of fire and the sunrise seems to take hours and then even before fully having risen the sun begins to set and the northern lights begin to wrinkle their silent colors and swirl them just above our heads and we wonder if this is that light that our eyes have always waited to see or if there is something still more brilliant in display and that provokes even more of our pitiful human awe and that our eyes will not be satisfied until they have seen this  even though  we may be blind  when we see

(Tuesday, 13 February 2018, the Meseta outside Burgos on the Camino de Santiago near Rabé de las Cal zadas, Castilla y León, Spain) the Meseta in February your forehead and the top  of your head  are all of a shape  more aero-dynamic than your face full-frontal, brunt of wind-blown rain and freezing rain and sleet and snow pelting your tender face-skin powered by a twenty-plus-mile-per-hour wind and all you can do is look down frontal-lobe forward, protected by bone and wool and gore-tex and plow into the wind and take care not to lose your balance on the rocky way or the wind will blow you down

no chains around my feet but I'm not free no chains around my feet but I'm not free I know I am bound here in captivity I've never known happiness I've never known what sweet caress is still I be always laughing like a clown

(Monday, 26 February 2018 on the Camino de Santiago near Molinaseca, Castilla y León, Spain) As we walk on soft black earth, our feet are soft-cushioned from sedimentary and igneous hardnesses beneath, and these hardnesses, because they are all young brittle rock, they could in an active reaction lacerate the soles of your feet as they actively resist the flesh of your sole as it slides across the serrated sharp edge of young rock still hot deep in its heart—or you can descend from some high desolate mountain pass frozen in colorless grey light and deep snow, and, once below the snow, you find yourself— through painful half-steps—having struggled down for a couple hundred meters or more in  height—where  you can encounter the older, much older, a geologic aeon or more, generation of young hard brittle rock higher up beneath soft black earth still hot deep in its stone heart, but this is rounded, harder, more dura-ble, different in hu...

taken Thursday, 15 February 2018, in Carrión de los Condes, Castilla y León, Spain Now it is a city that was given reason to be one thousand one hundred and twenty-two years ago as a bridge across some old river with a pre-Latinate name but not the exact one represented here in this entirely digital depiction, because the exact one here represented is the old bridge over Rio Carrión in Carrión de los Condes (the home of the infamous Infantes de Carrión, Fernando y Diego González, the cowardly and villainous sons-in-law of Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar el Campeador, El Cid) in the Province of Palencia in the Autonomous Community of Castilla y León in the Kingdom of Spain, but this other city— la ciudad de la imaginación— grew from there because Alfonso the Third of Asturias, (born, circa the year 848  Anno Domini , and lived until he died on the 20 th day of December in the year 910 Anno Domini ) Alfonso el Magno, ...