My hands still smell of marigold, several hours after carrying my prize bouquet of fall blooms home from the Farmer's Market this morning. We're ready for the bronzes, yellows and oranges when September arrives, and we revel in the warm days that gift the islands as the sun sets earlier and farther to the West every evening. Saturday mornings at the Market are part of our summer joys, arriving to watch boxes of produce become multicolor displays of locally grown blueberries, red raspberries, stacks of organic greens and carrots. Nearing the end of the Market season, there are boxes of corn, beets, broccoli, and at last, ripe tomatoes.
Vendors offer fresh bread, pastries and handcrafted gifts from cards to wrought iron.
There's usually music too maybe a guitarist, a young violinist or pianist. It's a comforting place for people to come together as community, especially after the unthinkable horrors of terrorism had just turned our world upside-down. A man stopped to ask me what time it was. Maybe it's because I've just become a grandmother for the first time that all the babies in strollers and children who had come to Market caught my attention today. These little people made me smile and feel good about our future.