A few weeks ago, two of my buddies and myself found ourselves catching up over beers, tacos, and a couple more beers. Our friendships span close to twenty years, now, but this was probably the first time within those twenty years that we were either alone or mature enough to talk about things in a manner which wouldn't draw any type of judgement.

I think reflected more than we'd like to admit; I know I was within a space which I've so recently began to crave, nature, yet my mind was adrift as to how time had refined us and brought us together on this brisk morning.

When one speaks of perfection, they're probably speaking about moments such as a sun rising up over a horizon and warming the spirits and eyes of all who are present. Life is doing its life thing, it's moving pieces around in a manner which I can't completely place my finger on though I'm sure it would require more than a single finger for me to understand.

Alas, in the open air we sat, cold, and to our own thoughts until we could see each other's faces, until we knew it was safe to be vulnerable in laughter and in song.