Entering the interior of the Yucatan peninsula seems like a journey inwards. The vast beauty of coast is far behind. The long roads stretch on through dense jungle to the horizon. One moves towards sacred ground where advanced civilizations built massive monuments to the Gods. Once-thriving cities are preserved in russet orange limestone ruins. Overgrown green vines and dark grasses swallow temples back into the jungle. Fruits hang heavy in the foliage like the humid air of the Yucatan–redolent of jungle flowers. Crocodiles hunt in the cool waters of cenotes. Natives burn copal resin-used for hundreds of years or more, it reminds us of holy ceremonies. The jasmine plants speak of animalic powder, a shocking complex aroma–like spotting the pattern of a jaguar among a monotony of green vegetation.
