I didn’t blog yesterday. It’s okay; one miss isn’t a big deal. Two misses, though, can be the “beginning of a pattern.”

Today’s been a day of music. Lots of listening to old favorites. The Smithereens. Great Big Sea. Mumford and Sons’ first album (always the first album; sometimes the second; never the third).

“The Road Goes On.” (I might be the only person who remembers the Lord of the Rings musical.)

“Morning Has Broken.” (Gosh, do I miss Pushing Daisies!)

“Colours.”

“Beautiful.”

I know it’s not very original or unique to feel this way, but there’s nothing that can make one’s heart swell and yearn more deeply than a good song. Music is sometimes the air I need to breathe. Today was one of those days. I needed to feel the old ache that comes from hearing good music. I don’t know why I needed it, but I did. And somehow, when the music crescendos, when the harmonies gather into a rising wave, when the melody explodes into a final refrain — it’s in that moment that everything falls away, and there’s nothing but me and the music, and life is somehow distilled into that moment, and goosebumps cover my skin, and I know everything’s gonna be okay.

It was nice to have those moments today. To have those songs. To feel good.