Late May, and the colors remain muted under a wet, gray sky.  Coming down the path toward the road, I spotted one pink tradescantia flower.  The day felt colder than the official 70 degrees.

As I crossed the road, I heard a shout, and there in front of me was Dominick and Kendra.  I met Dominick in the summer of 2007, during my first days as a busker. He had advised me to price my CD at $10, not $5, so as not to ruin it for everyone else. Kendra was new to the scene in 2010 or so.  She played the ukulele then with 2-3 different partners, now she plays violin.  We discussed the old timers, Arlen and Meta, dulcimer and harp.  I hadn’t seen them in 2 years.

“They’re on their boat somewhere,” Dominick said.  He had sometimes joined them on his guitar, playing a complex line from Scarlotti, Vivaldi, or Pachelbel, but mostly he played soft rock.  He had refused to join John Boyd and “his child abuse symphony orchestra,” as Kendra called it, during the consolidation after The Quiet Zone Wars in the early 2010’s.  Then he disappeared.

“I haven’t seen you guys in years,” I said.  “Did you leave the city?”

“We moved to the east side, farther south,” said Dominick.  “I can’t play anywhere near the fountain; it makes me too angry.”

The Boyd Family Singers were in the arcade.  I laid out my case and began my set.  A toddler stared up at me.  “Have you got time for a hula today?”  His mom encouraged him.  Soon the two of them were swaying to “The Hukilau Song.”

A young couple rode their bikes into the plaza and stopped to rest.  After a few songs, the woman walked up with $2 in her hand.  “Have you got time for a hula today?”  She demurred.

Another woman walking by pulled a dollar from her wallet and gave it to me.  She had a big grin.  “You make the best music I’ve heard in the park,” she told me.

Toward the end of my set, the Chinese woman accordionist set up 90 degrees from me, at the south side of the fountain.  A little close, I thought, but with only a short time remaining I played on.  At least it wasn’t the lugubrious Russian.

Having tidied up the area around the bench where she ate lunch, a 40-something woman donated the last dollar of the day, for a total of 6 in all.