After the biblical deluge of Saturday and the loss of a precious hour, Sunday came on in a glorious, post-apocalyptic triumph of hope and renewal.
Okay, it was sunny and clear.
I met friends in the Village as is my Sunday ritual and one I value immensely. Afterwards, I headed uptown straight away so I could take advantage of the day. I had a lot of writing to work on and wanted to get out to the park to play bagpipes. If I could manage to the green market on Columbus and have my dishes all done I would feel like I hit the jackpot. Getting my taxes started was still "pushing it," but I remain ever hopeful.
What I love about cities with "weather" is once there is sunshine people go out in droves: in the high streets, to the parks, along the rivers. There is life. But this swell only exists because there was "weather" that preceded it. Sort of like Christmas is special in part because it is surrounded by days and days of "non-Christmas."
As I was playing my pipes at my usual spot near the bench behind the rock. ( A place I psychologically spend my personal life!) there were some people who stopped to listen. I try to fade them out because I need to concentrate and not perform for them. I am there to practice. I had my pipe case open because I was fiddling with some hemp and whatnot trying to get me and this blessed reed in sync. A sweet little girl with face paint came up and put 38 cents in my case! I nodded a thank you and she moved on with her dad. I had never thought of myself as busking out there. Not a bad idea should the months ahead get leaner.
Today I am 38 cents up!
No comments:
Post a Comment