‘Give me my scallop shell of quiet. . .’ begins something written by Sir Walter Raleigh, on a site I read about Scallop shell symbolism on Le Chemin de Saint Jacques (in French. In Spain, el Camino de Santiago). Now that Erika is hiking solo, I expect the walking will become quieter and each day more of a pilgrimage. Various sounds will forever remind me of our journey from Le Puy en Velay to Aumont Aubrac ~ all manner of birds chirping and singing, from predawn roosters (yup!) to the bird an older couple pointed out to us – cirque et, I think they called it. (Apparently rare and also called Jean le Blanc.) Birds singing early in the morning through unscreened open windows. Buzzing flies, to the point of expecting to see a longhorn skull around the bend. Gentle cowbell, or ‘cowbell redeemed’–we much prefer the frequent sound of one or two cows wearing a bell, to race or game fans clanging cowbells.
Note the stone shell above the entrance.
The sound of running water which meant either a cold place to rinse our hands or splash water on our heads, or cold, potable, drinking water. I wish I had a photo of the stone water troughs.
The sound, “Hi, hi,” said in such a friendly way by a Dutch psychiatrist who we passed some days, always friendly, and willing to visit in English. His ‘hi, hi’ reminded us of Grandpa Storvick.
The sound of French is so beautiful, even when it meant we were confused. Last night as we got ready for bed, we could hear other guests chatting in French in the courtyard. Music!
The three-tone sound in French train stations simply evokes travel stress, so that is one sound I will not miss.
And of course the eloquent silence of the stone and metal crosses, all along the way. Many pilgrims built stone cairns next to them or tucked written prayers at the base of the crosses.
I thank God for the travelling mercies shown us, for kind fellow pilgrims, for time to walk through life at a slower pace, and the gift of sharing it all with my amazingly strong, brave daughter.
writing along the way 