After a 2-week bout of bad weather, I returned to the park to find the tulips in collapse, with forget-me-nots, bleeding heart and pale pink wild geranium in ascendance. The chestnut tree is blooming white; for the next week or two it will be at its best, then slowly, once again, succumb to blight. Columbine, covered with drooping amber flowers, are visible here and there along the path. <\/p>\n
Dominating everything, however, are the azaleas. First to my eye is a glorious magenta mound. Farther into the park, at Cherry Hill, the salmon and white shrubs appear. At Bethesda Fountain, pink and red join the chorus. The 2-string Chinese cello is there, as is the cowboy, but I seemed to have arrived just as he was packing up. From a distance I can hear some amplified bass, but it is out of sight, and not too loud.<\/p>\n
\u201cComing back?\u201d asked the big bubble man.<\/p>\n
\u201cNever left.\u201d<\/p>\n
Shortly after starting my set, I caught the eye of young woman bopping by to the rhythm. \u201cHave you got time for a hula today?\u201d <\/p>\n
She started to walk away, then turned to dance. \u201cThis is my last day in New York,\u201d she told me, donning a lei. After a single verse of \u201cThe Hukilau Song,\u201d she gave me $2 and returned the lei. She was on her way home to Orleans, France.<\/p>\n
While I tried to lure some young children into dancing by waving leis at them, a young man tossed in a dollar. A 40-something photographer took lots of pictures, then unburdened herself of her backpack and dug out a dollar. A moment later, 2 small children dropped some small change into my case.<\/p>\n
Marcel and Maggie the dog walked by for a brief visit. As they continued their walk, another dog, Lola, came by with her owner, a petite woman of a certain age whom I\u2019ve talked to many time over the years. When she asked me about my winter, I told her I’d broken my leg.<\/p>\n
“I was sick this winter,” she said in her slightly accented English, “and I told my friends, ‘It could have worse; I could have broken my leg.'”<\/p>\n
A dad and his two young daughters rolled up in a double carriage. He took them out and set them loose on me. \u201cHave you got time for a hula today?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSure do.\u201d The girls were shy; the younger ran back to dad and nuzzled his leg.<\/p>\n
\u201cI think you\u2019ve got to set an example,\u201d I told him, handing him a lei.<\/p>\n
He hesitated, then put on the lei and led his kids in a lovely hula. \u201cIn for a penny,\u201d he explained.<\/p>\n
By the time my set was over, the park seemed to have emptied out. I sang out my final number, \u201cLittle Grass Shack,\u201d to the sky and trees. With $8.30 in my pocket, I headed out, past the Chinese cello. I was curious to see how such a simple instrument made so loud a sound. There, between his feet, was a small amplifier. I should have known. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"