Driving on Vista Del Mar, with the Pacific Ocean stretching blue and white alongside me.
It's before 9:00 a.m. and I am cruising among the late commuters to work.
Like a stalled parade, surfer's and jogger's cars are parked parallel to the ocean.
Skimming the scenery and the road before me, I smile when I see him.
He sits on the hood of his beat-up car, facing the ocean.
With his back to the moving traffic, he grips a saxophone and plays to a stretch of empty sand and wild blue.
Wish I could have heard the notes, but felt the music nonetheless.
