Mundacamino Article Shower of Stars

[John Volz]

Here is a google translation of the MUndacamino Article.  It is
somwhat garbed by the auto translation, but still has meaning.

John Volz
Santa Rosa CA

THERE ARE COUNTED some old languages to ME that a star dust has always
guided the travelling ones more tormented of between all those that
they walk to Santiago.  If those languages locked up in the mouth of
the legend and filandones were able to read the newspapers these days,
would interpret like a signal of the sky that a baptized human talent
with the name of Stardust has been able to touch to the tail of a
comet in the beginning of the Year Santo and is following its wake to
gather samples of the particles that the torrents of radiation of the
sun come off their surface.  They say in newspapers and in the
television newscasts that that comet already was witness makes 4,500
million years of the birth of our Solar System, and that the samples
that will gather the Sartdust capsule will help to know something us
more of our universe and the principle of the times.  And again it
seems to me a signal that the ship reaches to the comet three days
before the Epifanía of the Gentleman, at night in which the Magicians
arrived from East following a footpath marked in stars to be witnesses
of another birth.  So when I read in the pages of Society of this
newspaper that the Sartdust has been able to cross 390 million
kilometers until reaching the comet, I begin to imagine me that with
the Door of the Pardon, just opened in the church of Santiago de
Villafranca of the Bierzo to indicate the beginning of the Xacobeo,
also a door has been opened to stars.  And that the threshold of the
stranger is near which more we create of we ourself.  And then one
really goes away to the pot, that a modern one would say pure-blooded,
and encounter more parallelisms between the space reconnaissance, the
avalanche of travelling that the Xacobeo will bring to Ponferrada -
one hundred thousands in all the year calculate the mayor and these
dates of Christmas.  It gives me to think that it is a sad resistance
that the ship that also finishes settling in Mars has of Espi'ritu
name, when Christmas of our days has become something frivolous, in an
annual appointment with the consumption and hipermetraje of the three
parts of the Gentleman of the Ring, and when many of the travelling
ones walk empty to east Santiago year.  And to finish off the task,
they say to me while I write this that can have fallen of the sky an
object in the surroundings of Cistierna and Riaño that could well be a
meteorite, and that the neighbors, alarmed, have listened to a strong
boom.  So an uncontrollable moral comes to me at the top that could
well have heard in the church if still it go to Mass Sundays;  as
anything it serves to explore the space, to celebrate Christmas or to
make the Way of Santiago in Year Santo, if we did not explore we
ourself.  It must be that to my years still I keep a embers from the
illusion that woke up Christmas to me being young, or that turrones
has been choked to me and to me they are putting mystical.  If I
continue writing, surely that still I put myself heavier and I end up
saying that I have seen the ghost of Christmases last in the bed of
Mr. Scroogle.