The temperature on Thursday hit 90 again.  Along Central Park West, the red begonias, protected by the dense overstory above and the stone wall to the west, continues to bloom in abundance.  Purple salvia adds its color to the ageratum and allium.  High above the button-seller’s head, dogwood berries fatten.  The dog roses reappear, red, pink and pale.

Along the path, a hosta blooms next to the wood anemone and its countless buds.  No one has yanked out the jewelweed yet.  It withers in the sun, yellow-orange flowers peeking out from limp leaves.  The magnolia, covered in buds, is pushing out a flower.

Once again, I went straight to the maple.  Soon a Brazilian woman from D.C. stopped to chat.  “I want to retire to Maui,” she told me.

“I hear that a lot.”

She is with a pair of teenaged girls.  They want to buy leis.  I set the price at $2, and put the leis around their necks.  “Now how about a hula?  No?  Ok, wear them proudly.”

“Have a good day,” said the Brazilian woman, who gave me $3.

A young woman ran up to me.  “How much for the CD?”

“Ten bucks.”  After 30 minutes, of the $17 in my case, $14 was for merchandise.

A tall young man with a group of Chinese tourists left the group and tossed me 77 cents.  Later, a 60-something woman put a dollar in my case and said, “That’s for putting a smile on my face.”.

My end-of-day tally was $20.77.  Despite the heat, I barely broke a sweat.