For many months, I’d been planning to be in Los Angeles for this weekend and go to the Sound of Music sing-a-long at the Hollywood Bowl with Lucas, Ane & Michelle. Well, the Camino changed that plan, and while I miss that time with those three I still find myself surrounded by music. Music on the trail, music at the dinner tables, music in the reception areas and churches, and music in the 50+ beds albergues.

There is a symphony of snoring almost every night in the albergues, We have our percussion snorers, the ones who steadily keep the beat of snoring with their deep, long, rhythmic snoughs. Then there is the snoring of strings, they fluctuate in octave just ever so slightly with their sneffs and it seems to be intermingled with some sighs and a few incoherent words. On top of that is the brass section of snoring. They’re not constant, but when they are blown they are heard. It’s the short breath pressed solely through the nasal SPLAGH! It’s the one that will wake you from the deepest sleep and the sweetest dream. And after their showpiece has alerted all of your senses, then comes in the woodwinds that almost seem to be a more vocal “allleegghhhh” followed by some wheezing through the nose. And that magical moment happens that you can’t possibly sleep through…all of them combined in the perfect harmony of blocked sinuses and sleep apnea.

On a more lovely note…haha, pun intended!…there was a section of the Camino that many locals seemed to walk and several times I had locals stop in front of me and sing a song to me in Spanish about the Camino de Santiago. It was lovely. The bit of Spanish I know I recognized it was words of well wishes and it felt like a blessing. How beautiful it feels to have a blessing sung in ordinary time as I’m just walking into the next moment. I wish we would do that to each other in our everyday lives…past our Sunday worship experiences.

I also had a very special and rare experience one morning eating breakfast at an albergue before starting my walk. There is an Italian man who can sings Italian opera so beautifully, and is a bit of a legend in this group of pilgrims walking the Camino at this time. He’ll sing beautifully if we come across a lovely vista or if he is talking with some fellow Italians. That one breakfast, he sat down across the table from me, looked at me and started to sing this beautiful song in Italian. Oh friends, I was choked up! What I could piece together with the help of some friends was that the song said we shall enter this day ahead of us joyfully because the Lord has brought the sun up to shine upon us and show us the way.

I think the crowing jewel for me, though, was last night’s stay at a church albergue in Carrión de los Condes. The albergue was hosted by nuns from an Augustinian order. Along with heartwarming hospitality, they also offered a time of singing and to share our stories. Oh friends, it was so heavenly to hear songs in Spanish, Korean, Hungarian, Italian and English. I could not control my tears because I so deeply felt a sense of God’s joy hearing all those voices from around the world singing to Him. Different words and sounds sharing the same love for God. Holy.

The last song we sang together was written by someone from that Augustinian order. It expresses the simply profound truth that each of us is to walk a unique path. We are meant to walk a path that is ours alone in the grace and love of God. Here are the words of that song “Nobody Went Yesterday” translated into English:

Nobody went yesterday

Nor goes today,

Nor will go tomorrow

Towards God

Along the same path that I do.

For each man the sun holds

A new beam of light…

And a virgin path,

God.

It reminds me of Psalm 96 – sing to the Lord a new song. What would it be like if we were to all be walking our own paths, singing songs of praise to God and songs of blessing to one another? Isn’t that what we were created to do?

Well, I didn’t think it was appropriate to take a picture of the snoring symphony ensemble, the Italian opera singer caught me by surprise, and the singing nuns asked us not to take any pictures during that special time – so I have no photos of those music experiences.

But I do want to share this photo. A local farmer saw me pass by and ran out to give me beautiful sweet cherry tomatoes. He would not take money but kissed me on both cheeks and with tears in his eyes said “Buen Camino”. The music came instantly to my heart of a song my freshman geography teacher sang: “There’s two things in the world money can’t buy – true love and homegrown tomatoes.” That song had never been so relevant to m as it was in that moment.