The Market and the Farmers

I just returned from a farmer's market. I love farmer's markets! It's like traveling into the past. There is so much to see and do at a farmer's market. There are so many smells to smell, and sights to see, and things to taste, and things to do. I can just imagine myself in an old calico dress and thick leather boots, with my bonnet hanging about my neck and a basket on my arm as I scurry past the many tents and shouting farmers trying to sell their products. I hurry to the booth with the breads or maybe the handmade soaps and close my eyes to breathe in the wonderful smells. I talk to the vendor questioning them thoroughly about their product trying to determine whether it is right for me or if I should move on to the next booth and look over what they are selling. I love tasting the different samples and so love the food they had at the farmer's market I just went to that I believe I will return again on Saturday to enjoy the many tasty treats it has to offer. What made this market so special was that it takes place in what looks to be an old town and it surrounded by many old, large swaying trees filled with singing birds that it's almost impossible not to imagine that you are in fact standing in a market 150 years ago. But at the same moment I can imagine a market 150 years ago I can imagine one from the 40s. I can see people scurrying around and my friends approaching to ask me if I want to walk into the main part of town and eat some ice cream and at the other end of the market my father is talking to some of his own friends about whether or not the war in Europe will reach here.

Do I have an imagination that has simply run wild, am I the only one that can stand in the middle of a place, close my eyes and imagine I'm in the same place but in another era? I love the time I live but I also love the time I didn't live.