Roman Candle

"It's not bad outside," Katie greeted me this morning as I laced up my running shoes. "It's breezy, you'll like it."

I grabbed my iPod and headphones, leaving my sweatshirt to lay balled up on my bedroom floor, and headed down the stairs and out the door.

At 8:20 a.m. on a Friday in late October it was already 71 degrees outside. The balmy climate, my sleepy head and the carefree mindset all reminded me of summer morning runs at Bethany Beach.

I ran to the bank, withdrew money and then ran to Blake's house to give him it for Chelsea's party. I talked with Blake and Julio for a little and had a cup of water.

With a water sloshing around in my stomach, I decided to walk the half a mile back to my apartment.

And it was delightful.

Children walking with their mothers. People enjoying their first cup of coffee of the day on their porches. Dogs being walked by their owners. The landscape was speckled with warm autumn hues of orange, red and yellow, but the weather insisted it was more like springtime.

As I was walking I knew I wanted to remember this. This perfect synergy of the things that I love about all the seasons. I put on some new Elliott Smith I got from Yoda.

I had really realized this before but music is almost like a blank canvas -- a slate where I can make a memory imprint. I know if I put on this song later that I'll be flooded with the feelings of this exact moment. I already had an idea that Elliott Smith wouldn't be too loud, too fast, too electronic. But a calm, beautiful melody to soundtrack this experience.

And it works the opposite way too. Music sets moods; moods set by past events, or moods anticipated to be felt. Songs can invoke certain feelings in you. Bring out the passion in that special moment. Raise your head on that day when you're down. Plaster a big smile on your face. Involuntarily dance to the beat.

Music can say a lot on its own, but it says so much more when you play it to life.