Sunday afternoon visiting New York. Sunny, radiantly warm and the musicians were out. Everywhere.
A short walk from the Village through Washington Square Park turned up at least five different groups playing everything from retro ’20s style cabaret and folk to straight-ahead standards. It’s the everyday “single-subway-musician-with-an-instrument-and-an-open-suitcase” experience, gone exponential.
A little over a year ago on my last visit, taking very nearly the same walk, the Park resonated joyously with the hard groove of a spontaneous drum circle. Around a dozen drummers conjured up some early springtime mojo under magnolias hanging thick with hand-sized pink blossoms. How could summertime possibly resist that kind of beckoning?
Wash Square Park was created in the 1870s. I like to think about all of the things the trees there have seen and heard in the last 130+ years.