We walk toward the old building, toward the sound of a happy crowd. Behind a historic brick wall, it’s easy to give oneself over to the delight of experience. Forget any troubles and notice the flow of life.
Past a doorway, produce blooms atop counters in colorful piles. Loaves of soft breads, a country staple, beckon buyers forward. Aromatic coffee kickstarts the morning. I wait in line listening to the sputtering espresso machine. Soon a gulp of milky foam and warm liquid hits my stomach. Just right.
Another friend and her daughter catch up with us next to a fan circulating the air around the browsing crowds. A grin fueled by a cookie broadcasts from the stroller as we embark on a tour of the aisles. People gather items one at a time into market bags. Prices calculated, receipts drawn up, on to the next stop. Some delectable foods skip bags and pop straight into mouths.
People like us bustle about from stand to stand attracted by the fragrant, sweet smells of stacked peaches and shiny apples and pints of berries. Artfully arranged foodstuffs and crafts beg to be noticed.
Refrigerated cases hum and offer meats and poultry and fish aglow under glass. Wrapped cheeses in wedges wait next to packages of ground flours and spices. Many meals start in the glint of an eye in this place.
Another turn, another row of stands greet everyone with too many choices to list. Conversation and transactions start and complete around us as we pass each stall. The market offers the abundance of summer in many ways.
When the time comes, we say our goodbyes and make our way back to the car. The only regret is not ours. It’s the overheard sigh of another shopper after a bag rips and produce rolls in multiple directions. Don’t worry, there’s more where that came from.
Do you shop at local farmer stands? Where do you like to buy things in the summer? Does the five second rule apply to honeydew in a parking lot? Tell me about it.