There are a number of images I’ve seen recently that are beautiful and compelling. Many of them are like something right out of the pages of an issue of National Geographic. A few of them, I’ve already mentioned in other journal entries. All of them have struck a chord somewhere deep inside of me.

In no particular order, here are some of them:

Being part of 27 people crammed into a regular sized van. These vans are run by a company called Los Arcos and pick us up from where the road divides, one way going to San Salvador and the other going to Zacateluca and take us into downtown San Salvador. If you are real lucky, you can sometimes get a seat up in front with the driver. Most of the time though you wind up somewhere in back. The rule seems to be that if the drivers’ helper can still get the sliding door to close, they keep packing in more people. Bear in mind, that I am about twice the physical size of the typical Salvadoran and by all rights, they should have therefore charged me double the normal rate. I remember on one trip, there was a woman seated across from me that couldn’t get over a sense of amusement over how someone as big as I am was crammed in along with the (by American standards) diminutive Salvadorans. Every time our eyes would meet (a difficult task since I couldn’t raise my head all the way as it was pressed against the roof), she would smile and giggle.

Tikal, the Mayan archeological site in Guatemala. The shear size and complexity of this city is just beyond my ability to adequately describe. The amount of effort and labor that went into creating that place, all without the aid of any metal tools, block and tackles or any other of the most basic things just boggles the imagination.

The boat ride across lake Atitlan where we went through an area covered with chunks of pumice from fist size down to gravel size floating on the water and hearing the machinegun-like rat-a-tat-tat as it hit the hull when the driver just plowed right through it.

Boris with his head thrown back, mouth wide open in the biggest grin imaginable and enjoying a quick, hearty laugh about something or other that happened to tickle his fancy.

Joe in his swimsuit, shirtless, eyes closed with his violin tucked under his chin and his massive fingers somehow bringing forth sweet music.

Frank, his toothpick skinny legs protruding out of his shorts as he sings ‘60s songs at Michele and Dennis’s wedding.

Waves forming vertical walls of water as we were leaving Bahia del Sol and lifting our bow up until it seemed to point high in the sky, then the next moment, rocking down as we passed by the wave and having the bowsprit point down at the bottom of the ocean just a few feet away.

Dark, forbidding, jungle covered mountains rising up from the sea at dawn with rain filled and almost as dark clouds towering over them as we made our approach to Bahia Santa Elena.

Parrots flying along the edge of the jungle.

Sailing along and seeing numerous waterfalls and cascades erupt from the jungle and pour over a cliff’s edge before tumbling into the sea.

Peering under a rock while snorkeling and seeing a huge moray eel staring back at me with it’s mouth agape.

These have been just a few of the images I have seen recently that I seem to have a difficult time getting out of my mind.

I hope I never do.