Every day was a day of photo opportunities but some days I didnt take them; either because I wanted a direct experience of the Camino, to be in the moment with it not thinking about capturing the memories or simply because I was remiss to charge my phone. Whatever the reason 14 October was a photoless day. I remember leaving Cizur Menor and stepping into a straggly trail of pilgrims snaking up the steep slope of the Hill of Forgiveness. An surprising number this late in the year but it was a beautiful day of big sky and vast panorama. Regally perched along the ridge a family of turbines, sombre & statuesque, magically capturing & transmuting the invisible force of the wind. I was completely captivated by these majestic creatures and found every encounter silently sacred, strangely artistic. In amongst the turbines a fabulous monument of weather-ravaged steel silhouetees of a pilgrim retinue “donde se cruza el Camino del viento con el de las estrellas” or where the path of the wind crosses that of the stars. As I softened into the downward descent I was alone again. My fellow pilgrims somehow absorbed into the nooks & crannies of the landscape.