After a hard rain Friday, the sun came out, and so did I. The park was alternately cooled by a damp breeze under roiling gray clouds, or steamed by vapors rising from the hot sun-baked bricks. A trio of college girls coasted on their bikes and came to a stop near me. They were from the Jersey Shore and immediately agreed to a hula. Midway through the first verse of “The Hukilau Song,” however, they quit and walked away.

An Italian man watched proudly as his daughter danced. It was his first time in New York; he was pretty sure it was the most wonderful city in the world.

I got a thumbs-up and a dollar from a 40-something man. He had been sitting a few degrees of arc around the fountain where I could not see him. Another happy surprise came from a teen-aged boy, who walked up from the water’s edge and said, “I really enjoyed your music.”

At the end of my set I pocketed $3. I was happy to have gotten out when the weather looked so awful, and I even earned back my carfare.