Sunday, September 13, 2009

This weekend's been something a disappointment, but only in terms of the amount of biking I'd like to have done. Everything else...everything else was charmed.

Even though I didn't hit my desired 40+ miles either Saturday or Sunday, I got to enjoy the lingering summery days in unusual and rare ways. Saturday morning, for example, I worked at the farmer's market in Shaker Square. I haven't worked at a market since I worked for Fishbowl Farm back in Maine, during the summer of 2006. I remembered the motions well.

Not having to wake up at 4 to load the truck with produce cut several hours out of the mornings I recall; there was no early coffee-stop at the gas station in yarmouth, no crummy Dunkin Donuts bagels or half-coffee-half-hot-chocolates to jump start this shift. The familiarity began when I parked my bike at 7am and wandered to the space marked off for Rittman's stand. Vendors setting up, backing their vans up to face their tent spots, snapping tent legs into place- they could easily have been in Maine, just as methodically arranging themselves and their produce, baked goods, craftwork in hopes of an eager crowd.

Matt pulled his truck up, swung out of the cab, and after I handed off coffee, we began to unload and set up. Apple crates felt right in my hands, their pull familiar to my arms; my hips remembered their bruises. A so- called early-bird came by and asked for produce before we'd even really filled our baskets, but we sold her what she asked for and finished placing produce, punctuating the setup by displaying precious pints of berries at the very center of the table.

The next fours hours I spent on air. High with the excitement of a busy market, giddy over my proximity to small-farm culture, and warmed by a well-deserved weekend sun, I danced from customer to change box to truck to display, smiling and chipper. My ecstasy fueled me through the sales and the breakdown as the activity trickled off with the morning; market closed and I walked away from the street, suddenly tidy, paid partly in ears of corn, raspberries, and glee.

1 comment:

AS said...

White on black, especially with this font, doesn't work well.