New Year's Eve

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The bird watchers clucked that persistent rain was going to diminish the annual bird count.

After the morning tour, Maureen and I hiked a few miles on our own through the jungle, which is impossible to capture in a photo, though we tried. I showed Maureen one of the tombs which a prior guide had shown me. Like most sites, this one had been pretty much pillaged by tomb raiders. Nowadays, archeological excavation is directed by infrared satellite photography, very effective. My Mayan guide was quite sad about the resulting loss of his history and therefore identity. He was the carrier of oral tradition for his clan, worrying about whether his son would carry on this tradition.

We took the rest of the day off to relax, idly watching one of the staff -there were forty staff for twenty guests -patiently sweeping tiny pebbles from the flat stone path, perhaps so that our sandal’s sole would not become dimpled.

That evening we were driven to their private lake for a wonderful soiree. We canoed toward sunset until retreating before a sudden thundershower. We sipped our cocktails under umbrellas for twenty minutes until it cleared for a beautiful

evening. At least it was beautiful after three margaritas, just to keep the chill off.

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Comments

[Marcia Billings]

As a newly uncloseted alcoholic, I only drool occassionally at what, when, and how much you were imbibing.