Thanks, Mr. Cole

I was driving out to the east end of the island today for a haircut from Armando, listening to Diane Rehm on the Miami NPR station, when my inner CD started playing, loudly.

Out of nowhere, Nat "King" Cole was singing, doing keyboard while his two backups did their usual subtle magic.

"You have to ac-cent, the positive. E-lim-inate the negative. Latch. On. To the affirmative. Don't mess with Mr. In-Between. . . ."

I heard it, and then I heard it. I started singing along.

Before long, I'd graduated to "Straighten Up and Fly Right."

After the haircut, I got back to the house and started taking pictures that might go with our architecture commission plea. I had fresh eyes when I went up to the loft and saw our ceiling and windows playing in the light as if they'd just been introduced to each other.

Later in the day, Robert and I went out to Higgs Beach for the sunset just like the tourists, smelled the air, got sand in our flip-flops, had a glass of wine, watched a schooner drop its sails a few miles offshore, tracked the Tortugas seaplane, saw clouds band the sun like Jupiter, daring me to complain because I didn't have my camera.

I didn't care about a camera. I latched on. To the affirmative.

Sunset is affirmative, and I'm by far, come what may, the luckiest person I know.