Early in the morning in Bryant Park behind the 42nd Street library, you can occasionally catch this chap playing his bagpipes.
He usually warms-up with a mournful rendition of Amazing Grace and then plays one or two other tunes. I think he works in a nearby office and likes to get in a few bars of practice before the grind begins.
If I see him when I approach the park, I quickly grab a cup of coffee and a chocolate cigar from a coffee cart guy and get a nearby table. It’s like dinner and a show except it’s breakfast.
New York City is chocked full of small, undiscovered pleasures.
They say there’s always magic in the air.