The expression stop and smell the roses is meant to be metaphorical, I guess. However, today I had a more literal take on it.

I left work early, as is the norm on Tuesday, expecting rain and feeling the need to hasten home. The walk to the subway was uneventful other than someone wanting to “talk to me” about some important cause.  They displayed no signs, and displayed no visible clues as to what that cause was, so I gave it a hard pass.  I can respect these things more when they are open and up front about it.

When I got to the subway, and got through the fare gates, I was greeted by the sound of the cello. I have written about this a couple of times. (Read here, and here)  I most often see the cello player at Finch station and I have the lengthy walk to hear him play.  Usually though, he is tuning up, and not always playing a song.

In an odd bit of coincidence, my coworkers had been traveling and came across a blue cello for sale.  The circumstances didn’t allow her to buy it, but she did snap a cool picture for Instagram.  As a result, before I left work, we spent time talking about the cello and the subway cello musician.  We both agreed it was a beautiful, yet probably difficult instrument to play.  It is funny how things align themselves.

Getting back to the subway and the cello player, I was glad to hear the music, but I knew it would be short lived as the stairs to descend to the platform are very close to the entrance. Normally, I would run down the stairs and forget about the music.  Today, I had a stop and smell the roses moment.  I looked down and didn’t see the subway, so I waited at the top of the stairs to listen to the music.  It was sad and moving.  It was bittersweet.  It was beautiful.

I wasn’t the only one. A lovely young lady also followed my example and stopped a couple of steps below me.  She had taken out her ear buds and was totally captivated by the music.  She was almost oblivious to her surroundings.  Maybe she was a musician and could appreciate the music better than I was.  I was enjoying it, but she was somehow experiencing it.

Eventually my subway came and I sauntered down the steps. “It’s beautiful” I said to her, and she smiled and nodded at me.