Thank you, Agapito

As I trot past the bench leaning again the front of the house, the window opens.

"It's for you", the middle-aged woman leaning out of the window tells me. "It's for you, peregrina. Are you thirsty? Shall I bring you some water?"

She is pointing to a box and a basket sitting side by side on the bench in front of her home.

The box is filled with plump ripe plums, and the basket with cookies, mints, cough drops and hard candies. A tiny Spanish flag stands nearby.

A notebook and pen rest alongside a small note: write to me if you like.
This oasis of sweet and fresh and delicious is explained by the sign leaning again the bench.

"This is for you, peregrino. It's been left by your friend Agapito. Buen camino!"

In the photo an older man grins out at the anonymous pilgrim friends he's feeding and encouraging.

I was tired and bored. I was 10 or 20 kilometers outside León, more than eager to leave the asphalt I'd been walking all day far behind me. I didn't know I'd sprain my ankle for the second time later that afternoon and spend the next 3 days holed up in an albergue. I only knew I was alone, walking on asphalt, destined to stick with this highway for at least another 10 kilometers. I hadn't seen another soul all morning.

And the plums were for me.

I ate a plum and a few cookies, grabbed a candy for later and wrote a note of thanks.

Here's another, in case Agapito reads blogs. Here's to laying out what people need, just in case the odd wanderer passes by, hungry and in need of a friend.