-Being with my people
The sun is hot and the farmer’s market is hotter. In all directions you look there are people to be seen. Admiring handmade jewellery, smelling ripe tomatoes, nabbing a bit from a delicious food vendor, singing with the Spanish guitarist, or gazing into the eyes of a great horned owl, people everywhere!
One of my personal favorites sights is watching a man demonstrate his bubble making contraption – the children scream and laugh and run and dance in the massive floating bubbles.
Going to the local market is something I’ve done for years. Most times I don’t buy anything until I’ve been met with a temptation-sized piece of peach on the end of a toothpick… then I buy a whole basket and make myself sick on luscious, fuzzy, juicy, peaches. Not sure why, but the peaches that come out of the north are particularly good.
But peaches aren’t the only reason I go – I go to the market to be a part of my people, my community, my heritage. From listening to conversations, watching old couples giggle, or seeing kids and all, I go to the market to belong. Hell, sometimes I run into new faces and then left in awe at what the market brings.
Needless to say, you never know who or what you will find among the people.