The very thought of her...

Funny thing, music. Sometimes it can be the perfect backdrop for the perfect day.

Driving back from the UT campus this morning, I heard that old Henry Mancini piece, "Moon River." The sky was so blue you could swim it; the morning air was perfect, brilliant, the kind of moment you never want to slip away.

And I heard that familiar melody, (I'm crossing you in style some day...), which always makes me think of Audrey Hepburn, and wished I could spend the rest of the afternoon outdoors, drowning in the kind of day that once could fuel my artistic juices to the boiling point, before those little pills took away both the valleys of depression and, somewhat sadly, the mountaintop experience that comes with an elevated mood.

Oh, I don't really miss it. Trust me, the end result is hell.

I thought, too, as I seem to do on days like this, about a woman I loved -- so dearly loved -- and, to be honest, still do. She has no way of knowing it, but she saved my life once upon a time. The very thought of her brightens the day.

It's a beautiful afternoon, but a poignant one, because the chill in the air is a reminder of what lurks ahead -- cold, dreary, gray days, empty, alone.

Get out and enjoy it if you can. This is a day to savor, something to warm the soul, something that can inspire politicians and poets, young kids and old men, even cynics with broken hearts.