Strange Days....

So I would say I have been here in Mendoza for roughly three weeks and the changing weather becomes more and more apparent. Pushing Pacific winds make their way over the Andes Mountains and leave behind a wake of robust rain clouds turning a cold day into a bitter one. I feel like I am wading through the whole of Mendoza waiting for the sky to fall. These are strange days where I havent been able to see my path as clearly as I had. There is a foggy haze of nostalgia, a mist of faces I cannot forget. I supppose its normal after such a long period of nomadic roaming that my paws are now more calloused and I long for my own box of walls I can call home of which I need not ask permision and can pass those cold days in my own warm bed basking in rays of dreamy laziness. I would do it quite ambiciously. There are many moments where the constant instability of traveling maroons a need to simply settle. To settle seems to be an innate locket tied around the neck too hard to escape from its calling. Though I know that I still cant give up yet and push to the side, at least for the time being, so many of those strings that continue to pull me back to my first roots. My birthday is the 24th of May and considering that the last one was spent with a high fever and bedridden for an entire week I recon that staying here in Mendoza for a few more days with familiar faces seems to be a bit more appealing at the moment. These are incredibly strange days and I hope their visit is only transitory.