Getting up in the pre-dawn is not usually on my agenda, but wanting to see the Gran Plaza in Tikal at sunrise was sufficient motivation. I expected at least a handful of others would be similarly motivated, but my expectation was fantastically wrong. Alone in the misty morning, the pyramids dissolving into the gray sky, while the oropendolas and scores of other birds pierced the thick air with their song, I felt almost as if I were a ghost, floating serenely through the royal complex. I didn’t get to see the sun rise as a ball of flame over the pyramids; instead, the city of Tikal emerged slowly out of the mist, as though materializing out of the past from a dream into reality. And I the lone witness.