Tucked in a shaded corner near the Strawberry Fields sign, a mass of Michaelmas daisies bloomed. Long white petals, varying in number from 6 to 9, radiated from a small yellow center. Someone played “Imagine” at the Imagine Mosaic.

Here is the chestnut report: withered leaves cover the ground; more than half the leaves still on the tree are blighted. The golf ball sized nuts are also browning. I crushed one underfoot to find the nut still unformed, although the meat inside was moist and green, suitable, I’d think, for the most discriminating squirrel.

Grass grew a foot high around the rhododendra, and had started to bolt.

The cowboy crooner was there again. As I walked by he called for volunteers to dance to his next number, the beautiful “Quando, Quando, Quando.” I could have told him it wasn’t so easy to get people to dance.

Maggie the dog stopped to visit. The black scotch terrier sitting at my feet, seemingly absorbed in my music, made a wonderful photo op. After some time, Marcel scooped the dog up and whisked her away, after which I played for the next hour pretty much to myself.

Just when I thought that this would be the day, the day I took in nothing, an old woman fumbled in her change purse. “I’m sorry it’s not more,” she said, putting 8 dimes into my case. “You were so nice to me.” I had no idea what she meant by that; perhaps she’d seen me before and we’d exchanged pleasantries.

A 20-something on a bike braked in front of me. He reached into one pocket, then another. “Sorry, mate, all I have is Irish money.”

“No problem,” I said. “Next time you’re at the pub, have a drink for me.”

A teenaged boy gave me a quarter.

A family stopped to hear me play. “Have you got time for a hula today?” The young daughter danced beautifully to “The Hukilau Song.” “Where are you from?” I asked her between verses.

“Holland.”

“Holland? Wow, I know Holland, what city?”

She looked puzzled. “Holland,” she repeated.

I looked toward the parents. “Holland, Pennsylvania.”

“Pennsylvania, ok,” I said, and launched into the second verse. At the end of the dance, they walked off. The day’s total came to $1.05, my worst day ever.