The dogwood is forming fruit; in the fall they will drop on the button-seller’s head. With the exception of the cleome and the dutiful roses, there is very little floral color. Ferns have spread over the brown patches behind the benches in Strawberry Fields. The chestnut leaves are starting to darken with blight. In the underbrush, purple tradescantia flowers have not yet melted in the sun, and sedum, astilbe and coral bells are forming flowers under the pin oak by the road.

As I approach Bethesda Fountain, I can hear an orchestra tuning up in the bandshell, the flutes and strings most prominent.

The ice-cold water man greeted me with, “Today’s a nice one. Sunday was horrible hot.” Spread around the plaza were the two young clowns, begging Buddhists and, in the arcade, the accordionist. I took up my uke at my usual spot, and immediately roped 2 Brazilian girls into a hula that looked weirdly like a samba. After telling me where they were from, they walked away.

Three young kids danced for a buck. A little later, 3 more young kids danced for a buck a piece. Another young girl of 13 or 14 dropped a penny in my case. “Ok, you’ve paid for it, so how about a hula?” She danced with wild arm waving, while her friend dug into her purse and pulled out more change.

A woman excitedly dropped a handful of bills, including a fiver, then directed a short video for her friend Julia from Hawaii. The scene opened on my solar hula dancers, while I sang “Tiny Bubbles.” Then the aperture opened to include the two of us singing and dancing. The video ended back on the toys with a sweet G-chord played high on the neck.

John Boyd dropped by to ask where I’d been and if everything was all right. He still is the unofficial leader of the Central Park Busker Association, Bethesda Fountain Division. I told him I was in L.A. for the birth of my granddaughter.

Two Long Island girls worked in a quick hula before running off.

As I pocketed my $12.60 and packed up my uke, an 80-something man slowed to look into my case. “Hello,” I said.

“How you doin’, kid,” he answered. To go from Grandpa to Kid in a matter of minutes kept the smile on my face all day.