It’s starting to get cold.
I noticed it yesterday when I dropped in at York Mills, where I was scheduled, for an hour. The busking post at York Mills (in the upper reaches of the city) is in a long corridor, like the kind you find in airports. When I arrived, John was there, the musician I met first at Pape Station.
He explained that the acoustics were pretty good here.
"That is, when nobody’s around."
He took a break and I started to play, and realized what he was talking about. The sound was all rich and echoey, until huge crowds of high school students came streaming through, all talking to each other and laughing.
When they did (every few minutes) I could have actually stopped playing, the sound disappeared so completely. Then they disappeared around the corner and my guitar and voice came back again. It was weird.
I find that crowds aren’t terrific for donations. It’s too hard to break away from the pack, and people are happily engaged in simply getting from one place to another, which is fine with me. Sometimes when people try to make an effort to donate, it can be downright dangerous as they unexpectedly cut in front of another person’s path. Better in that case to just keep walking. I understand completely (and I don’t want to be at the scene of a collision).
Because the corridor seemed so long and far from the exits, I was surprised to discover it was cold.
And so, to honour the changing temperature and the tiny ice-flakes that I saw drifting down today, I sang "Snow", one of my small handful of official "winter" songs.
(This gets me thinking, am I expected to learn Christmas carols?)
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