The park has greened up since last week. At the Women’s Gate entrance to the park, where the bicycle rickshaws congregate, wood hyacinths have joined the purple pansies, and red white-striped tulips and pink bleeding heart mingle among the white tulips. The chestnut tree, blighted though it may be, has fully developed 7-lobed leaves with 4 inch spiky blossoms. The catalpa, one of the last trees to leaf out, shows the tiniest bit of green at the tip of its bare branches, like green pilot lights indicating the fire of life just below the bark.

At the fountain, I tuned up and began my set under a wind-swept sun-drenched sky. From time to time, fountain spray blew against the back of my neck and arms. In rapid succession, 3 people put singles in my case.

Maggie the dog came to sit at my feet. Her master and I chatted for a while, but when it was time to move on, Maggie wouldn’t budge. “I guess she wants another song,” the master said. After a second song, he peeled a single off a wad of bills for me, picked up Maggie and carried her away.

Two young women, who had been eating lunch on the bench in front of me, stopped to drop a fiver when they were done.

A toddler and I locked eyes. Her father, pushing an empty stroller, noticed the connection, took a dollar out of his wallet and tried to explain to the kid what to do with it. When that didn’t work, he walked her to me and completed the transaction.

A middle-school group, following the red umbrella held high by the leader, stopped to hear instructions in English and French. “Have you got time for a hula today?” I asked 4 girls as they walked by. They seemed not to understand and kept on walking. I had better luck with another quartet of classmates. Seeing the dance, more kids wanted a try, and the leis moved from neck to neck as the dance got more and more free-style. The group was from Quebec. “Is the hula part of the curriculum up there?”

Altogether 10-12 kids danced, from which I earned $0 Canadian.