I stood at the edge of a sea of umbrellas on that cool, misty morning, listening to beautiful notes floating up from the outdoor stage. I imagined the graceful arch of the pianist’s fingers as she sent them gliding effortlessly across the keys, producing some of the most beautiful jazz improve I had ever heard. The newspaper article had it right, this unknown woman in the park was truly a hidden gem in the neighborhood, coming here every Sunday morning, rain or shine, to share her talents with those gathered around the pavilion.
My introspective fascination with her fingers continued as I began to think, the civil servant or whomever it was in the city administration that came up with the idea of installing public pianos in park pavilions should be given a medal—at the very least, one of
