No Seatbelt

I've noticed that I enjoy the weather in a weird way.
In the morning, I like it when I wake up to it being grey.
A few clouds, a slight chill, cause for a sweater.
But by midday, I much more prefer blue skies.
Fluffy clouds, warm sun, light ocean breezes.
Then, at night, I thoroughly enjoy light drizzles.
No torrential downpours, but sprinkling is nice.
I love the way a slick street reflects headlights and taillights,
How the misting rain shimmers underneath streetlights and catches my eye.
Taking a walk on that sort of night feels good.
Sweater zipped halfway,
Fists buried in pockets.
What I'm basically getting at is:
Today was an absolutely perfect day,
At least as far as weather is concerned.
And, for now, I'll take what I can get,
At least as far as perfection is concerned.

It's where I belong.

So I've been ramblin' around for a bit now.
I've been wearing holes in my socks
(When I choose to wear them),
I've been putting miles on my odometer,
I've been there,
And then come right back,
Only to go somewhere else,
And then back around to when I was there.
Or something like that.
I've rekindled some friendships,
I've made some new plans,
Met some new faces,
Tried a few new things.
It's always smooth sailing, it seems.
I can't wait to conclude this current chapter of my life,
And I hold the next one in even higher anticipation.
My feet are going to meet some endless expanses of open road,
And I'll shake some new hands in hundreds of new towns.
I'm far from ready to settle into anything,
And as far as I see it, my life is still just barely getting underway.