The Mouth

This column is from Puente de la Reina, on the Camino in northern Spain. It was a stopping point for me on my 9 day journey from St. Jean to Los Arcos, where my feet gave out.
The Mouth was just one of the many tormented souls, forever preserved on the outside of one of the town's churches. I spent an hour photographing and drawing it. Then I went back to my hotel room and called Wil. I told him about my feet and he, in turn, called a podiatrist he knew. Then he called me back to give me blister piercing directions. That was true love. Imelda