I always look forward to sleeping in on Saturday
But…
Then the thought of the farmer’s market pulls me from bed
The vision of vegetables in bountiful array thrills
And then,
if I remember to bring a canvas bag I am just so damn proud of myself!
Oh the choices!
Will it be plump ripe tomatoes heavy in my hand and smelling of sweet tangy heaven?
Or firm zucchini each one softly curved and rounded?
Maybe ground cherries,each with a whispery husk that reminds me of a paper lantern?
They have a soft sweet taste like nothing else I know
Perhaps a variety of greens that I will try for the first time, having just now decided that I must have them!
The growers,
the farmers
smile gently
They are a connection to the earth
a filament reaching to me
They smile, or look a little serious,
but are always ready to answer my many questions
To teach
Once I saw my friend A.J. there
He was helping Eric sell his salsa and mushrooms
Those mushrooms, what are they called, the ones I like so much?
clamshell or pearl something?
I can’t remember the name, but always recognize them
Same with people…
Anyway, I was so happy to see my friend
Young enough to be my son,
complete with beard and dreads
With him I am comfortable
like family
or the way we wish we felt with family
not the frustration of feeling 12 again but rather the ease of being with a kindred spirit
