It began with a journey to start with. A cold wind blows from the moors,signals The approach of rain. A season which stops and starts- I travel;but to nowhere really. After a death there’s not much left- We’re spent.Locked down,there’s more disquiet there. Still,the season tries to turn, Held back:I’m holding back. Someone once spoke,’It’s ordained,there is one entrance to life,but many exits.’I’ve seen a few. Many stories;my story. Other lives and mine entwined as We journey together. Pilgrimage sharpens the mind.The focus is inward,a self assessment of Who I am,procurement of what I really need, not what I think I do. When stripped of all we have,there’s almost Nothing left. We’re rather visible, translucent with a paper-thin exterior -God knows. Whichever route we choose- The Camino de Santiago or staycation at home,change comes. Renewal builds energy and strengthens relationships,defining Who we are to be. Have I seen saints along the way? Do you see them?The coffee seller yesterday spoke of lamentations and moving on.A doorstop interchange. Snatched conversations with people are more open-a simpler life, Purer somehow and less tied up, hindered by stereotype or lack of Expectation. Clocks spring forward. I move forward with the Ressurection journey too. Awakened and fresh, renewed with poignancy and vigour- immediacey.It needs to be; we have one life,and to Live it to the full is what draws us home.