On the Camino, Roots Intertwine
On the Camino, Roots Intertwine
by Anna Bonavita | Edina, MN
On a camino journey, you never truly walk alone.
In solitary moments, thoughts turn to the early pilgrims who first traveled the long dusty roads and paved the way, sometimes literally. Their journeys—devoid of the modern perks of moisture-wicking materials, hiking boots, and social-media tips—inspire.
And in small towns along the way, local people provide life’s essentials like food, water, and places to rest—forming a vital, movable web of support.
And then there are the fellow walkers. Strangers at the outset, they quickly become friends. A bond grows as your footsteps fall in rhythm and conversations stretch over miles. You cheer one another on through blisters, fatigue, and those inevitable moments of doubt. The Camino reveals how quickly community forms when people share both struggle and wonder.
One day I may walk the Camino de Santiago across Spain. For now, I know this spirit of fellowship because I have walked the “Cammino di San Francesco,” The Way of St. Francis, in Italy several times as founder of the nonprofit Esperienza Italia.
This cammino (the Italian spelling of the word) begins in the seaside town of Rimini on the Adriatic, follows the Marecchia River inland, and climbs into the Apennines of rural Emilia-Romagna. The first stage ends at the Sanctuary of La Verna, a peaceful Franciscan monastery perched on a Tuscan hilltop where St. Francis is said to have received the stigmata.
In April, as our group approached La Verna, I deliberately slowed, reluctant to let go of the rhythm of my daily walks. The trail wound past massive beech trees whose gnarled root balls gripped the rocky slopes. Many rose higher than my head. I marveled at their ability to both cling to the earth and uphold such towering giants.
I pondered these beauties, whose well-being and health are surprisingly interconnected. Each stands alone, yet depends on the hidden network of roots beneath the soil. Likewise, we humans, all of us individuals, thrive in connection with families, companions, and communities. This truth becomes so clear on a pilgrimage walk.
Just down the road stood La Verna and the end of my journey. I gazed up at the tops of the trees against the sky—and I also looked deep within. There, I discovered a new strength that had taken root over the miles.
