trees with spring leaves, seen when approaching Figeac
"I look; morning to night I am never done with looking.
Looking I mean not just standing around, but standing around
as though with your arms open.
And thinking: maybe something will come, some
shining coil of wind,
or a few leaves from any old tree-
they are all in this too."
in the poem 'Where Does the Temple Begin, Where Does It End?'
One of the lasting legacies of the Camino for me has been this looking:-
looking and noticing details in the world outdoors around me.