Saturday Sampler OR A Day in the Life of the Oakland County Farmer's Market

I’m perfectly cool and suitably warm all in the same Michigan moment, a small miracle in itself.  The sun sneaks under the shade canopy and warms my lower legs through my jeans as a sporadic breeze ruffles through my hair and carries the sweet smell of popping kettle corn to my nose.  I scan the ombre skyline as it fades into an icy blue covered in stretched-out, cotton candy clouds.  Nature shows off its many shades of green while every frill and shape of leaf wiggles in the breeze.  I stand directly in the sun and am filled with a bright, hot hope...until even my toes are more joyful.  I watch a parade of circus-colored bouquets march past, and their blooms nod their heads politely at me.

Kiddos in mismatched pjs suck on honey straws and follow the wagon train of their families’ vegetable carts, and sweet fuzzy-headed babies squint into the early sun kicking their chubby bare feet as they go.  Decades-old couples hold hands and shuffle along.  Their heads are bent together in oneness and, sap that I am, it never fails to choke me up.  A mother wipes the chin of her wheelchair-bound child, cooing “sugar bear” to him, as she brings a basil plant to his nose for him to smell, and I sniff at the heartbreaking infinite tenderness of her love.

I’ve loaded my iPod with heavily syncopated beats and I dance a bit to wake myself up, and as I take in all this and more, I consider myself crazy blessed to be a part of this weekend tapestry.  I’m one little strand in this scene; soaking up the sun and sounds and scents and feeling richer for it.