Hanging over the old bridle path that passes under the entry to the park, obscured by bushes, a splash of purple blossoms caught my eye.  It was wisteria, growing from a thick root outcrop, between the barren vine covering the north pergola and the precipice.  The button seller told me that it sometimes bloomed there; now I saw it for myself.

There was hellebore among the spent wood hyacinth, and hot pink azalea closer to the road.  Under the judgmental squint of Daniel Webster, a squirrel faced off with a dog on a leash, just out of reach.  How did I miss the trillium yesterday?  Single three-petaled flowers opened pink and white out in the open, while in the shade of an Eastern Hemlock, they were wine red.

The white and red azaleas led me down to Bethesda Fountain, where the lunchtime crowd was light.  A cool breeze blew off the lake.

My first contributor dropped a pocketful of change into my case.  I spread it around to weigh down the 2 singles — shill bills — I use to give people the right idea.

Coming down the path in her green Central Park Conservancy volunteer tee shirt, skipped Joan.  Five years ago, Joan heard me singing the verse to “Have You Ever Seen a Dream Walking,” and joined me for the chorus.  A year or 2 later, we met up again for a reprise.  Today, for the third time, we belted out her number.  And for the third time, she walked away without a tip.

An Argentine girl did a Latin hula while her friends photographed her.  She too walked away.

A young woman couldn’t pass by without stopping.  She and her friend worked in the area, and were having a hard day.  I pitched the therapeutic benefits of hula.  “I’m up for that,” she said.  Her friend demurred, until I started playing “The Hukilau Song.”  Soon both of them were gracefully swaying, hips and arms, languid and relaxed.

At the end of the dance, they gave me 2 dollars.  “That was fun,” said the first.

“So what kind of work do you guys do?” I asked.

“We raise money for people richer than we are,” said the second.

Another young woman of about the same age, 20-25, stopped to hula.  “Do you know how to hula?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how to hula to the hukilau?”

“Yes.”

In fact, she’d never heard of a hukilau and had only a loose grasp of the hula.  As she dropped a fiver in my case, she told me she was from Utah.

The breeze had picked up.  When I tried to anchor the leis across the back of my case, one flew off into the fountain and floated away.

Next came 3 Italian girls from Milan.  They wanted me to say something in Italian to their friend Katerina.  I think it was Happy Fortieth Birthday.  They filmed it and tipped $2.

By the end of my set, the lei had floated back to me.  I plucked it from the water and spread it out in the sun.  By the time I counted my money, $10.78, it was dry.