Two days ago, I ran into a lady who I had met around 2 weeks earlier on the Camino. Her name is Kiran, she is an artist in so many ways, and she was on her way to have lunch by the river.
I speak often of my kinship with rivers. As a boy my bedroom window was close enough to the Thames that even at night I could sneak out, take gingerly the steps that took me down to the river’s edge. There I would sit in wonder at where passing boats and even the river itself were heading.
(The song “A Boy & The River” is from the above album, A Human Sound)
So when she invited me to join her, to decline wasn’t an option.
She had food and wine, I had a large bottle of water.
She was kind enough to share her food with me, the wine I did decline in my preference for my agua.
The food was simple and delicious. The conversation was smart, funny and poetic.
Here is a sample of her work.
When our fare was finished she suggested we head back to the albergue we were both staying in. I was just about to put back on my socks and shoes when an idea lept from my imagination in much the same way a small fish had done only moments earlier.
So here’s what we did. We both wrote a short message on the same small piece of paper, I of course, included my website address. We slipped the note into the empty wine bottle and I stuffed the cork firmly into the neck.
Then, I took a hazardous walk into the middle of the river.
I saw where the current was fastest and tossed the bottle perfectly into its flow, the sealed neck facing straight ahead.
It sailed under the bridge where I lost sight of it. It may still, like myself, be continuing its journey without forethought or concern.