One of the things I left behind, when I flew to Portugal to start my Camino journey, was my patio garden. I’ve taken great care since creating it last year to nurture the seeds and plants—mostly flowers along with basil and tomato. I was so busy those last weeks of preparing to be gone for 21 days that there was little time left to tend that garden. Besides, the harsh summer sun was making it a losing battle. I’d been disappointed because the squirrels had wiped out my sunflower plants and the morning glories had barely any blooms. I had people scheduled to water while I was away, but wondered if it really mattered.

One of the things I hadn’t considered was the beauty of flowers along the Camino path from Porto to Santiago. Most of it was by the coast, where the plants benefitted from the moisture. The summer sun provided the power for proliferation. I’d never seen so many hydrangeas with such large bowl-shaped, blooms. One of those blue ones had partially blocked a Camino sign and helped me in getting lost 🙂

I felt a bit disoriented as to what season it was given all the types of flowers blooming in Portugal. The wisteria, which come into their full beauty during spring back home in the South, were in full bloom along the trail. While walking down a country lane with loaded vines of grapes, there was a pumpkin peeking out along a fence, making me think it was fall.

When I left home, it was dry and my flowers were languishing in the August heat. But throughout Spain and Portugal, the gardens were green and thriving, the flowers vibrant and popping against the green grass.

One of the days that I spent walking along the rocky coastline, I spotted a plant that thrives in dryer, less fertile conditions: thistle. I appreciate this plant for its simple beauty, dusty-gray-green color, rough texture, and light purple bloom.

Some days, when I had reached my maximum, exhausted from many miles, I’d see a sight that would take my breath away. That was how I reacted when I saw this house covered in bougainvillea. It was common in the climate of Portugal but uncommonly beautiful.

Before I left home, I was disappointed that due to a squirrel’s invasion and stealing my sunflower seedlings, my garden only had one blooming plant; a volunteer from last summer’s crop–which had flourished. On the next-to-last day of my journey, I walked down a country lane and the faces of happy sunflowers greeted me. They boosted my spirits and showed me that while my garden had failed, they had thrived in other places.

When I left home, only a few of my morning glories had bloomed. The foliage was healthy and there were signs that it would be filled with those beauties while I was gone. When I was in Porto the first few days of my trip, I was walking through the older part of the city to the riverside district. I saw a large area of vacant lots and collapsing houses covered in purple morning glories, growing everywhere like kudzu in the South. Those flowers were close to the size of saucers and a deep shade of purple; I was delighted!

I stepped onto the Camino two days later and saw those same wild morning glories on the way to Santiago. I’ve always loved those flowers that my Uncle Joe, Seed Analyst for the FCX (Farmer’s Cooperative Exchange), loved to remind me were “just weeds.” I associate them, the way they open up to their full “Glory” in the morning, as a sign of God’s faithfulness, the words from the hymn “morning by morning new mercies I see” coming to mind.

My garden was filled with weeds when I returned from Spain. I thought of all the flowers that were “mine” as I walked the path. I didn’t need to own them to enjoy their beauty; I didn’t have to spend my time in the August heat tending to their needs. I was free to walk that pilgrim’s path and be present to the beauty in front of me.

For that, I am grateful.

Best to you,

Connie