Today I walked to Gabrieli, yesterday to Vivaldi, and the day before, Joni Mitchell. All of this from the music streaming service that began as a free six-month trial but I decided was worth paying for. 

Though old news for many, the idea that I can call up most any piece of music struck me like a thunderclap. It was out there waiting but I had to be ready for it, ready to see music as something to rent and not to own.

Which is not to say I have entirely given up that concept. I still have stacks of CDs and LPs, still have my trusty iPod, tiny and ancient, with playlists that have embedded themselves in my brain. 

But now I also have my phone, gateway to the streaming app — and a musical freedom I am only beginning to plumb.