As I was rushing to get to Penn Station in the morning today, I heard a busker play "Chiqutita" on a flute today inside the station. Now I was going for what might have turned out to be one of the most important interviews I have ever given but hearing the music stopped me dead in the tracks.
I sat down and listened to him play an extended 10 min version of the song. As I sat there breathless I was immediately transported to the fantastic African grasslands of my childhood.
Some sort of childhood memory was let loose and I could literally feel the wind blow on my face, the smell of the elephant grass and the never ending horizon. All this while sitting underground in a subway station in New York.
The power of music never ceases to amaze me.