July at the farmer's market.
Humming
buzzing
bursting with energy.
Vegetables, flowers, cheeses, baked goods.
Tables overflowing.
People overflowing.
Long lines,
arms heaped with produce.
But her space is quiet.
Monastic even.
A few beautifully packaged raw food offerings.
Crackers, pâté, spreads, nut/fruit goodies.
She offers a taste.
Delicious!
The kind of sweet that satisfies with a single, small bite.
She's turned her passion into her business over the past year
and seems really content.
Though I can't help but wonder how it feels
to be in her island of peace,
in the midst of the chaotic energy of the summer market.
. . . and I forgot to ask.
No comments:
Post a Comment