Fourth Journey Day 110: Golden Currents, Restless Shores
The day began with a leisurely boat ride across Lake Petén Itzá. The water shimmered under shifting clouds and reflected the colorful buildings of Flores. When I arrived in San Miguel, the pace of life slowed. Narrow lanes led me through a village where time seemed to settle into the rhythm of daily chores.
At the edge of the village, I climbed a path to a viewpoint overlooking the lake. The sight was mesmerizing-dense jungle stretching to the horizon, meeting the pale blue of the sky. A lone heron stood still on the shore, as if contemplating the same vastness. I sat on a weathered bench, sketchbook in hand, capturing the contrast between the distant lake and the textured thatched roofs below.
Walking back through the village, I stopped at a small eatery where the smell of corn and firewood filled the air. The vendor handed me a warm *chuchito* wrapped tightly in a corn husk. The masa was soft, infused with the flavor of tomatoes and spices.
As the boat returned to Flores, the sky turned golden, streaked with purple clouds. The lake was restless, as if it, too, had collected stories from the day. I closed my sketchbook, feeling satisfied. Tomorrow will bring another canvas.
