I now know where ancient chants have their birth: in a quiet pine grove leaving Longrono, along a lake, I heard the soft “who” of the Owls in the trees. One would called out a series of “whoo who who” and the others would repeat in unison. It is my belief that the early monks, bored to death, listened to the chants of owls; heard prayers. 

 I passed through drier country today, leaving Longrono was a beautiful park that went miles out of town. The towns people were walking hand-in-hand together. And many women were walking umbrellas in hand as it was raining.

I saw some wildlife 

 and lovely Virgin Mary  

  I said prayers for those who asked me to in the most fabulous church 

 while hiking under a highway, someone kindly drew a map for us 

 and tonight, I will eat with my “Camino family” a home made meal in our Albergue. Tomorrow I must press on