Tarnished Beauty

When I was a teenager, I traveled with my family to the land where my grandparents were born in Spain, and it was there that I first saw the pilgrims of Santiago de Compostella. I couldn’t imagine what so many people from all over the world were doing along the roads of northern Spain, laden down with backpacks, and carrying long walking sticks that were often adorned with a solitary scallop shell. I soon learned that these enigmatic folk had walked for weeks and even months, traversing hundreds of miles along an ancient route almost 1000 years old.

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