To Market, To Market

After months of a lavish and generous sun, I certainly always look forward giddily to the cooling of the temperatures each autumn; still, despite this anticipation, I cannot help but feel a bit forlorn as well. Bright colors, flaming reds, oranges, gilded yellow, vibrant violets, greens, glaring and sordid, seep back into the earth. A visceral and visual senescence, of the land and her bounty. 

While I enjoy keeping busy on the weekends, traveling, I do regret not being able to reap the full benefits of the local markets as much as I potentially could. Sunday late morning, the filmmaker and I strolled over to my familiar neighborhood farmer's market, Mexican Coca Colas in hand, relishing in the tantalizing and elusive pure cane sugar sweetener, succulent and delicious. We left, my worn black canvas bag brimming with the stragglers of summer tomatoes, with cucumbers, and local goat and sheep cheeses. With a soft and crusty baguette, and some locally butchered sausages. Fortunately, there are apparently some indoor farmer's markets that are nearby, so that as winter and her cold fury descend, I can still enjoy some fresh products and support local commerce.