We weren’t sure if we would go out, as the skies were dark. It had rained torrents last night. But the weather broke, and we piled into The Jungle Bus to head for Blue Creek.

There was a cultural center there and what we would call a boarding school. High school students from all over Toledo, and some beyond, come to learn traditional Mayan ways, both Kekchi and Mopan who speak different languages. We were told that Kekchi usually cannot understand Mopan, but Mopan can sometimes understand Kekchi.

The students also learn entrepreneurial skills, computer programs, and other elements of our so-called modern life.

Alas, the students were on break, but two from Blue Creek came in traditional Mopan dress to dance for us. The girls and young women dance around, holding their skirts and swirling them, enticing the young men.

After the program was over, we went toward Blue Creek (the river in this case, not the village) for our picnic.

As the bus went down the road, several people called out, “STOP!” to Antonio. There was a library about the size of a postage stamp, very gaily painted, and a number of us got out to photograph. I loved the colors in the doorway.

Antonio parked the bus under some huge trees and set up our picnic. Warm chicken burritos with some wonderful seasonings, fresh pineapple, and plenty of water and juice. Two ladies were doing laundry on the rocks in the river and putting the clean clothes into a large metal tub to transport back to their houses. A couple of boys were swimming. We stood around or sat on big rocks and enjoyed it all. We watched two young boys, perhaps five years old, play with large calabashes as though they were soccer balls.

After lunch and cleaning up, we got our tripods, grabbed a swimming towel and life vest, and started up the trail. We had intended to go to Blue Creek Cave where one swims into a large cavern and goes upstream so far that at one place, one’s headlamps are the only light. A but farther on, one can see light where the creek enters the cavern. It is a really neat experience.

But, it started to rain. For the dry season, there has been an unusual amount of rain. We donned ponchos and rain jackets, put protective covering on our cameras, and photographed anyway. Some people took shelter in just that — a shelter for people who want to camp in this park.

The deluge intensified, and pretty soon, everyone was either in the shelter or standing under the eaves. There were no steps, and because the shelter was quite high off the ground, it was a bit challenging getting into it. We helped one another, handing up gear, pushing and hauling each other up. Some people even photographed from up there.

The rain would let up, then downpour again. This view of the path near the shelter was done between downpours!

Antonio agreed with us that much as we all wanted to go up to the cave, it made no sense. The path was slippery, and the rocks would have been worse. It was not worth taking a chance where someone could get serious injured, so after people had photographed some more, we took off for the Lodge.

On the way back, another line of storms greeted us, and some of us really liked the way the telephone poles led our eyes down the road.

Of course, we got back to the Lodge, and it was sunny. In fact, it hadn’t rained since the time we took off that morning. Mother Nature does have a mind of her own.

We downloaded images, and some of us went down to the river and had a lovely, refreshing swim.

Good conversation, lots more laughs, and some great images, and we all considered this another successful day, even though we couldn’t get to the caves.

After all, in these parts, one has to be willing to go with the flow.

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