Today is extraordinarily beautiful. Clear, sunny, somewhere in the Fahrenheit upper-fifties, which is approaching what we know as “perfect” on the Sims temperature scale.

I feel happier than I have felt in weeks.

I feel human.

It was about two miles of absolute wonder. The wind blew my hair (which is about 50% longer than it has been in a long time) in every direction. It’s just warm enough to comfortably wear sandals outside. Being as I am, vehemently opposed to socks, weather permitting the wearing of sandals in January approaches magical status.

Including several stops to lean on a rail and close my eyes, the stroll left my mind beautifully removed from my generally draining job in the restaurant industry for right at seventy minutes and currently continues to leave me calm and smiling, refusing to remove my iPod headphones even though I have the set of real speakers twenty inches from my hands.

Only a few days ago–and I’m unsure as to how I missed the boat on this one–I became wildly obsessed with Bon Iver. For Emma, Forever Ago provided the soundtrack to the first half of the walk, during which I strummed the strings on the strap of my camera bag and stepped in-time with Blindsided and Re: Stacks.

I drew some looks as I coasted down the sidewalks completely engrossed in my own strolling, musical, and, more than occasionally, eyes-closed adventure. It was either the strumming, the air drumming, or the arms-outstretched position. Or perhaps the hair, in desperate need of a cut and without any holding product, blowing in every direction. Whatever the reason, every look I drew solicited from me a response of a genuine smile and then, from the starer, a smile back. I wonder, now, where’d we get as a country if we just smiled at one another. There’s a lot of power behind a couple upturned mouth corners. A power with greater depth than I’m capable of articulating.

And speaking of that camera, it never left the bag. I never even made a motion toward it. It’s not that I was walking through a less-than-picturesque part of town (though I was). It’s not that I didn’t want to take pictures today. It’s simply that today was a day more for feeling and less for looking.

Feeling and listening. The wind blowing through my hair and Justin Vernon’s falsetto blowing through my ears.

What a magical hour. I remain in literal awe over what a difference those seventy minutes outside my apartment, outside of work, and outside my own mind made.

I must certainly do this more often.