I saw my first acorn today. Fuzzy finger-long magnolia buds fatten in the sun; a pink tissue of flower petals was visible in a few of them. The chestnut tree is mostly black.

As I got to the fountain, Meta was packing up. She told me she’d been there since 9 o’clock, and all had been glorious until the cowboy set up across the way. “He’s so loud,” she said.

“Not too loud for me. As long as I can’t hear him when I play,” I said, “I figure I’m maintaining busker etiquette.”

“That’s my rule too,” Meta said. “I guess you play louder than me, because I can hear him.”

I set up exactly where I’d been Tuesday. A family of Brazilians slowed as they passed me. Dad was interested in my instrument. “Ukulele?” I nodded. He wasn’t inclined to stop, but when first I engaged him over the uke, then his daughter over a hula, they became my first customers of the day.

A Bolivian man was roaming the fountain area with his 2 daughters. Having seen the Brazilian girl dance, the Bolivian girls thought they’d like to try.

Keeping with the international theme, a French girl, in denim shorts and a loose fitting tee shirt, danced free style, with lots of arm-waving, head-banging, and hip-shaking energy. She pranced over a lot of real estate during 2 verses of “The Hukilau Song,” ending up where she started, next to me. She gave me back my lei, kissed both cheeks and walked away.

A man and boy from Toronto liked the music. Neither wanted to dance, but were happy to give me a dollar. All the Americans, it appeared, had already left town for the Labor Day weekend.