Thursday may well have been the last busking day of the season, yet I’ll remain optimistic there will be another.

The temperature was above 70. Large dark November clouds rolled in and kicked up a cool breeze, but they failed to mask the sun for long. The park was being prepared for the NYC Marathon on Sunday. Six foot chain link fence surrounded the roadways. Steel structures arched over West Drive with signage. The fall foliage was at its peak, predominantly orange and yellow, punctuated by flame red. Pink roses were still forming buds in the warmth, while just where the marble balustrade of Bethesda Terrace comes into view, a wave of purple asters reminded me that this could be the end.

The cowboy was by the water, so I set up at center stage. There were fewer people around than I would have expected on a day so fine. I didn’t even see many runners.

A contingent of French bicyclists dismounted nearby. After checking their tires and maps, one of the men stopped to listen. I saw him smile at the simple lyrics of “I Saw Stars.” After a few more songs, he came over with $2. He had a little boy of 3 or 4, who, fascinated by the uke, clapped his hands and bopped around. Pretty soon I had a lei around his neck and we were going to the hukilau. All the Frenchmen whipped out their hardware and took pictures. Pere gave me another dollar. As they rode off there were shouts of Merci, Mahalo, Aloha.

A man came forward, from I didn’t see where, gave me $2, and, without eye contact, walked away.

A young Chinese couple arrived on the scene with great flair, whirling in a dance-like embrace. She wore a bright red mid-length trench coat buckled at the waist that flared as her partner led her in graceful circles. They were definitely up for a hula. They were heading back to China to be married.

A young Italian man, handsome, tall and ill-shaven gave me a dollar and said, “I want to have a picture with you.” His girlfriend was ready with the camera. He got giddy when I put a lei around his neck. He took my uke from me and grinned into the camera. “Look, mama,” he said, “I got a job in America.”

A photographer gave me a dollar. He took quite a few pictures, then sat down on the bench across from me and listened for 10 minutes.

To my left, toward the water, a man, woman and dog warmed themselves and listened. A woman to my right also listened while her partner rested her head in her lap. When the partner stirred, the woman came up and shook my hand. She told me, in an English accent, that she’d loved my singing, then turned and walked away.

When the man, woman and dog got up to leave, they dropped a dollar in my case. The man said in a soft voice, “We really enjoyed it.”

I really enjoyed it too. Aloha.