…to share a tale that’s not about cycling. The threat of torrential rain kept Maggie home yesterday and I took the subway to work.

At around 34th St., a young woman in yellow rain boots and a newsboy cap called for everyone’s attention. I started digging in my bag for a dollar until she added, “I’m not looking for donations.”

She’s an artist who grew up in LA and moved to Manhattan a year ago. “I’ve noticed that New Yorkers never engage on the subway, and that’s sad. I’d like you to share with me something that you’re grateful for. If you do, I’ll give you a little piece of art.” Silence. “Anybody? I don’t think I’m scary…” I smiled and told her, “No, you’re from California.” She laughed. We just don’t talk to strangers on the train, I said. “But you should!” “Okay, I’ll play. I’m grateful for my husband and our fur children.” She asked about the furkids and then handed me this 1” square canvas. After that, a few other people spoke up too.

It was sweet, and I’m still smiling.