On my way to the park, I ran into Dominic at the 103rd St. subway station. We used to see each other quite often during my first years of busking, but he’s been gone from around the fountain for years. In his mid to late 30’s, lanky and bearded, Dominic was still banging out 60’s rock on his guitar. He looked healthier than I’ve ever seen him. We greeted each other warmly before I boarded my train.

When I got to my spot on the path, I took a closer look at the tree in which the bay-breasted warbler had attracted such a crowd yesterday. I had identified it as a birch, but on closer inspection it turns out to be a young white mulberry. I could tell from the emerging clusters of flowers, which were identical to the flowers forming on the giant white mulberry between me and lake.

“If you’re here for the bay-breasted warbler,” I said to a man weighted down with camera equipment, “you’re a day late.”

“I know,” he said, “I was here yesterday.”

“Do you know what kind of tree that is?” I asked.

“No, I wish I did.”

“It’s a white mulberry,” I told him, glad to make a contribution to the ornithological pool of knowledge.

“Thanks,” he said. He surveyed the canopy, but didn’t spot the warbler. With a shrug, he turned back in the direction he came in.

A large group of kids loudly approached. “Has this group got time for a hula today?” Before the adult leader could answer, the kids swarmed around me for leis. We did three verses, between which I had them hand the leis off to the next platoon of dancers. Amid all the tumult, traffic was totally blocked on the path. From the edge of my vision, I saw the leader circle behind me and drop a few bucks in my case.

Arlen and Meta walked by, complaining of the heat. With the warm weather barely begun, I have a feeling I’ll get my shot at center stage yet.