At first blush, I thought it so sad—a woman seated on a park bench playing a clarinet, and not
very well at that. She seemed so, well, alone. Tree branches glistened from an earlier rain,
insects buzzed, and the park was mostly empty. Except for the clarinet-playing woman, and me.
And then it dawned on me. I, too, was alone as I walked through the park, and I wasn’t sad a
t all. On my way back, I saw that clarinet playing woman was still there, and some of the notes
she played were still off-key. This time I smiled. I am pretty sure she didn’t see me.