Beauty in the strangest places

On my way down to the train tonight, I could feel the lead in my legs. It was a particularly cold day in San Francisco that brought wind, rain and even snow to the outer lying East Bay where I reside. I walked down the stairs and as I turned the corner, down the corridor to the train station a solitary violinist played the most amazing song. I looked up for a minute and stopped to hear him play. The notes bounced around me and echoed down the corridor greeting the tired masses crowding into the station. It wasn't a bad day or anything, just busy with people and tasks and such. See, that's what I love about the city. When you least expect it, something beautiful falls at your feet and just makes you smile. It's a sidewalk musician, or the sun setting over the ferry building. It's a glimpse into perfection for just a second that makes me remember why this place has really grown on me. I looked into my bag and fished out my pathetic little wallet. God knows the holidays have made me broke as hell, but I felt an obligation to drop at least a buck in his case. I found one and walked to the case and dropped my donation. He nodded a thank you to which I replied, "No, thank you."