It was a song of sorts that I heard as the dogs and I made our way across the school grounds, and as he approached from the rear with a heavy footfall, the musical offering became clearer.
"It's nice to hear someone singing," I offered with a sideways greeting.
"Yeah, I can tell. I didn't get the actual words but it sounded great."
"It helps me; I live in a foster home; I had a rough childhood--- my own mother abused me."
"It's good that you found a way to express yourself."
And so it is.