After an idyllic day of sunshine and peace, I was awakened in the middle of the night by a torrential downpour as the water cascaded off the palapa roof over our room. Awakening at first light, ever more aware of the lushness of the jungle around us that had been renewed ... we had promised ourselves that we would walk eastward this morning toward the river, and toward the place where the flamingos nest.

The sea was rough and the cool waves felt good on our bare feet as we walked down the long beach, passing structures that were in use and those that had been abandoned ... signs of man`s attempt to impose his will on nature. The cornucopia of tiny shells crunched beneath our bare feet, giving way to our weight and occasionally exacting their toll on our skin as we became toughened by the experience. The sun arose on our right, bearing down with heat unnoticed due to the cool wind from the sea that enveloped us in its protective embrace.

Drawing ever nearer to the river, and to the other, uninhabited island, we felt an appreciation for a more primordial existence as our bodies and spirits were being drawn toward and into the mangroves, guided in the physical realm by the white female dog that had adopted us along the way, taking us through the hazards onward. The elusive flamingos had left their signs ... pink feathers nestled in the weeds which threatened to punish anyone who traversed upon their lair with a thorny bite.

At the river, we were in awe of a large wooden bridge that had once connected the two bodies of land, reclaimed by the forces of nature, its remnants a testament to the ultimate superiority of nature`s will. We walked gingerly upon the soft claylike sand, covered in water and dangerously slippery beneath our feet. Cautiously, we entered the darkness of the mangrove, ever aware that other dangers potentially lurked within. Ribbons of light permeating the thick vegetation brought the images of the beautiful pink birds to our eyes. Too far away to see with detail, they remained elusive, but teasing our imaginations as they casually went about their lives on the other side of the river.

Perhaps we will see them up close another day.