I was right.

I usually am.

There were so many amazing things this time (as always). I swam in the warm cyan waters of the Pacific, with brightly colored tropical fishes, I ate so many wonderful meals, with tastes that don't even exist here, and enjoyed beautiful, soft sand beaches that most people only ever read about. Mexico makes me wish that I could process more, feel more, enjoy more, and remember it all. It is a sad truth that almost immediately, the sharp edge of the moment is dulled by the next experience that follows closely behind it. It is wonderful and tragic all at once. There are so many shades of light that dance across the endless horizon, aromas that gently play around the edge of your consciousness, memories so wonderful yet gentle, that you can't quite be sure they actually happened once they are gone.

So many things in life just can't be adequately expressed with words, and yet, if we don't write them down, we will certainly have already lost them.
I got to hold a tiny sea turtle baby on the day it was hatched. It was about 2 inches long and very, very strong. I held it in sand covered hands, and then set it down on the beach, to try and make it's way to the ocean. The guide told us that 1 out of 1000 baby sea turtles survive, so most likely my little baby would live a very short life. But, just maybe, mine would be the one. Nothing is as powerful as hope. It only takes one. Do something amazing today.