The Subway Serenade

Moon River echoed a cappella as I walked along the F train subway platform at 6th Avenue. The voice of the invisible man was deep and enchanting.

Moon river, wider than a mile I'm crossing you in style some day

My pace quickened. I was still far from the L train stairs and eager to see who was singing. His rendition haunting and full of soul. I passed by a series of headphone zombies who were so isolated in their own worlds to realize what they were missing. I slowed down. I told myself to savor in this performance, to happen upon this man at just the right moment.

Oh dream maker, you heart breaker

wherever you're goin', I'm goin' your way

I wondered what he looked like. He could be anyone. Why he was here, in this station? Maybe he was standing, waiting for the train practicing for an upcoming show. He might be homeless with rags for clothes, a sign before his feet, accompanied by a scraggily yet adorable dog?

Two drifters, off to see the world

There's such a lot of world to see

A flash of Audrey Hepburn singing the same words in Breakfast at Tiffany's came into my mind. Her effortless beauty and soft voice luring her writer-neighbor to the fire escape. The lyrics infused with romance, a deep wanting, the unknown yet the chance of every possibility.

Just before the L train passageway— I saw him. He sat on the floor with his legs extended. I don't believe he had any shoes on. He was a hipster type with long, blonde wavy hair and thick black glasses. His bangs were pulled back in a small clip. He sang while simultaneously rolling a joint carefully between his pointers and thumbs. Before his feet was a printed sign set on the black bubble gum spotted cement asking for tips. There was another taped to the wall.

We're after the same rainbow's end

Waiting 'round the bend

He lifted the brown paper to his lips during a natural break in the lyrics to seal the seam.

My huckleberry friend

His pitch was perfect and unwavering. He never looked up and I didn't stay long enough for him to notice. I didn't dare wait for whatever came next— for fear its brilliance might be spoiled. I walked down the stairs relishing in his final notes.

Moon river and me.

Taken by Marc Charbonneau

The subway station can be full of magic. A New York moment waiting to happen.