Just nailed a busker’s corner for the first time in weeks

The spot by the old library steps—where the light hits the pavement at 4:17 PM and the pigeons don’t scatter when you start playing. I’ve been missing it, not just the money (though that helps), but the way the rhythm settles into your bones when someone actually stops to listen. Played ‘Red River Valley’ with a cracked harmonica and a kid in a backpack started humming along before I even finished the first verse. That’s the kind of moment that makes the cold mornings worth it.