Saxophone player

On a whim, I jumped off the bus and went to MacRitchie Reservoir.

I never knew how peaceful it is, or how strong the wind blows across the waters, how at ease the little kayaks look as they glide through the waters.

There was the sound of someone practising the saxophone and it drifted through the quiet park. I kept imagining some teenage school band fanatic frantically practising an exam piece.

But when I was walking out, I discovered it was a man in his late thirties. The boot of his car was open, accompanying music blasting from it; while he stood on the little road, a music stand before him, his back to the park and all passers-by, lost in his music.

I almost laughed out loud.
Had his wife shooed him out the house?
Did he secretly wish for an audience?
Did he come here every week?

Witnessing someone's passion is always so moving.