They are elusive, this kind. You can go to their homeland and never see them because they are easily lost in a crowd. You may look for long earrings and hippy skirts, only to realise later that regular folk were wearing those and the earthsinging dreamers were in something more practical.
So often these days the prosaic people fill up the niches and the willow-tree shade. They are entitled to, of course, and welcome. There's nothing wrong with being prosaic. It's only that the magic-whispering, wild-witted people become unobvious.
And anyway, you can't tell them from just looking at them, or even learning what they do for a job. (I recently met a bricklayer who was the most soulful person I'd encountered in a long while.) The thing is, they are recognisable only by their heart. And you have to open yours to see them true.