On a sunny Sunday evening, stage left, at the Home County Folk Festival, my uncle stumbled upon an old friend, poet, busker, eccentric and local legend Roy Mc Donald. An old chum of both my almost equally eccentric father and uncle :-D, and an acquaintance of mine, Roy has been a part of the London landscape for years, known for his tweed jacket, long braided beard, which he says he has been growing for decades, sharp humour, laden cloth bags and friendly demeanor. To the uneducated and unaware population, Roy is often mistaken as a street senile, but for those in the know and for those open minded enough to listen, absorb and observe the likes of Roy Mc Donald, the reward is a true one-of-a-kind gem, unafraid to express, reflect and spread happiness and intelligence lost in a world of self centered protectionism.
When we parted on that perfect evening, he not only took time to send best wishes to my Dad and other long parted friends, he told us to open our hands and placed a single polished stone in our palms with a prayer for friendship and happiness. Some may think that is crazy, I think they are crazy. Thank you Roy and right back at ya':-)Roy on Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roy_McDonald_(poet)
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