Because Xanga does not change the time for me, I am writing this about noon-ish on Thursday.  Last night’s entry was actually during the evening on Wednesday for me. 
Anyway.

I saw porpoises, dancing above the crystal waters, arching their backs high towards the sun as they dove back underneath.  I have seen schools of zebra fish darting among a wrecked tomb called the U.S.S. Arizona.  I have felt the wind whip my hair around my face, my skirt billowing long in the wind, as I stand a ship plowing through fertile waters.  I have seen trees, laden with mangos and bananas and coconuts, and the lava casts of ancient trees.  I awake to the taste of sea salt on my browned skin.  

And I trust, too.