As Terry and I began our ascent of the fairly steep windmill-accented ridge several miles west of Pamplona, the cool morning air, strong sun, gentle breeze, waving fields, ubiquitous wildflowers, singing birds, and grand vistas were almost tear-inspiringly transcendent. It was one of those moments when one's belief that it's good to be alive becomes a visceral "it's SO good to be alive at this very moment, in this place."

A few minutes later Terry came upon a young man sitting cross-legged next to his pack just off the path. He said to her in heavily accented English: "I cannot walk. It is too beautiful".

That pretty much summed up the whole day. The views, the sun, the breeze, the light, everything was perfect. We walked 12 or so miles from Cizur Mayor to Puenta la Reina along all sorts of paths, a few stretches with steep ups and downs, and through several villages. We're now showered and relaxing in our room on the upper floor of our hotel situated in the middle of town, looking out at very old lichen-covered rooftops.

One of the great things about the Camino is the sense of camaraderie among the walkers. This afternoon I walked for a while with a Canadian woman and within five minutes she was telling me about an experience she had two days ago. She said she's not religious, but when she came across a shrine that consisted of a bunch of quickly crafted crosses left by pilgrims, she decided to leave one in memory of her father who had passed away 15 years ago. She said she unexpectedly burst into tears, and she said she was holding back tears telling me about it.