Last week, the local farmer’s market opened for the season.
If there is one thing that gives this city constant beauty, it’s this market.
Vendors gather along all four sides of the downtown “square” to sell glorious flowers, fresh fruits and veggies, homemade soap, hand-crafted items, and more.
Musicians cover every corner and compete for the spare change of passers-by.
Our first summer here, I grabbed my guitar and found a quiet spot near a woman named Beth.
It’s been my favorite venue– singing while little kids dance by, parents not far behind; the shared bond of man’s love for rhythm and voice. Perhaps my best tip was the half-eaten muffin from the teeny blonde boy, who just loved me that much.
Now that Eliot has embraced the fullness of his extroversion, he asks about the market more than once a week, and he knows that it’s a party waiting to be joined.
We show up and tune our ears toward the live music, and head straight to the source–indeed, music is a source of life for both Eliot and me. He sways side to side as the music plays, and he points to the cello, the violin, the guitar of the jazz quartet as they perform their last song of the set.
We found our lab, Charlie, there.
I discovered Celosia, or Cockscomb, the flower that resembles a brightly colored brain– my favorite flower.
Eliot discovered the bubble machine outside the jewelry store, and takes at least 10 minutes every visit to play in them.
The beauties found here have made this town a blessing to live in– a town where diversity brings celebration, where Saturday mornings belong to everyone:
the executive who needs a few extra bell peppers for a dinner party;
the vegan mom who wants to make kale chips for her toddler;
the exchange student who wants to experience a new culture;
the 20-something who has a weekend date for coffee and a morning walk;
the family of four who comes out for fresh air;
the 3-year old boy who has his dancing shoes on.
It’s the city that loves its local farmers and supports their work with happy hearts and generous pockets.
This year local politicians set up tables trying to buy votes with lollipops and balloons, and I get to kindly say, “We’re moving in July,” as Eliot shoves the root-beer flavored candy into his mouth and the politician’s wife smiles.
If I can spend the next 9 Saturdays in the open air of the market, I will be absolutely content. So, here’s to a house of fresh flowers and meals of sustenance, straight from the green earth.
For more posts from the Snapshots series, click here.