Farmers market day.
By Joey Doherty.
No matter where I travel, I make a point to find the farmers market. This is where I really get to know the land. The people. The local delicacies tended by honest hands. I may not find what I’m looking for, but I sure do find what I need. No pre-meditated internet search will tell you what the best fruit is this time of year. You’ll have to consult the local taste buds. Better yet, look to the farmers, the ranchers, the flower-tenders. See whose eyes you’re drawn to, whose hands you trust to fill your plate, whose heart is warm enough to raise the kind of cow you would be honored to drink milk from. The cycle of gratitude is complete when the tender and the tended know each other by name.
With a thrifted basket in hand and some cash in my breast pocket, Saturdays at the market wash the week’s sorrows away, and that’s no easy task. Do these farmers know they’re magicians? Working not only the land but also the people. Salt of the earth. My kind of people. An honest look in their eyes will tell you, they aren’t here to get rich or famous. But I bet if you asked the earth who is a star in her eyes, she would say the ranchers and the farmers who tend to her the same way she tends to all of us. With care. With the seasons. With the future generations in mind.
When there are musicians playing on the sidewalk, you might as well leave me there for the rest of the afternoon. Wherever I go, it’s the artists that bring me comfort. Perhaps because they aren’t trying to bring me comfort. It’s not their goal to save me. They’re simply doing what they do, and it’s those honest endeavors that heal. Singing a ballad. Playing the banjo. Growing a deep purple carrot. Farmers are artists too. Their canvas just has worms and an unpredictable nature and may be eaten by the deer or washed clean by the storms for a fresh start. These earth-tending artists are strong people. It takes a sturdy person to gamble their livelihood with the elements. To make a deal with the seasons with only one guarantee, and that’s change.
Everyone looks especially beautiful on farmers market day. The undyed cotton flower sun dresses. The dirty denim overalls. The wide-open hearts and sun-soaked skin. Come to think of it, I’m there for the people just as much as I am for the food. Maybe more. The land and oceans are abundant, but it’s the people and the connections that make this human dance something special. Perhaps abundance isn’t true until it is shared. Perhaps. I don’t know much for certain, but I do know that the humble farmers market will bring you back to the earth, the people, and the thing we have in common – this slow moment.
Joey Doherty is a therapist, self-taught writer, and is the founder of Creatives Gone Hiking. He has published five poetry books, facilitates group ceremonies, and has trained over 300 therapists and life coaches to treat the mind, body, and spirit of their clients. Whenever possible, Joey is out in the woods barefoot.
