It’s a grey and gloomy day here in the SLC — by mid-afternoon, it felt in my office like it was past dinnertime already, because the light was so dim outside — but it’s not too terribly cold, a combination that always puts me in a strange, difficult-to-describe frame of mind.

As it happens, my trusty iPod often seems as if it’s capable of reading my mood and somehow proceeds to find exactly the right song for the moment. Here’s what it served up while I was out taking my daily constitutional today along South Temple, Salt Lake’s grand boulevard of Victorian mansions and towering oak trees:

I don’t have much to say about this one. I have no particular memories associated with it, aside from being introduced to the song in the back bedroom of my grandma’s house by my cousin Stacey. Despite being a year younger than me, Stacey always seemed to be slightly farther along the arc of musical sophistication, and I recall her introducing me to quite a few songs and artists at that crucial moment when you’re beginning to take an interest in adult things, but still haven’t quite reached puberty… that moment in which, in my experience, so much of our tastes are truly formed. As far as I can recall, I’ve always liked this song. And I really like looking at Stevie Nicks circa 1981, but I suppose that goes without saying.

Anyway, for whatever reason, this turned out to be the perfect tune for a comfortably chilly afternoon with an iron-gray sky overhead and wet, faded-gold leaves whipping around my ankles as I walked and remembered things that once made me sad but recently seem to have lost some of their power over me…

And on that note, I’m calling it a week.