When it comes to a Summer’s Saturday morning, strolling the Farmer’s Market is the next best thing to the slower coffee time on the porch. Come to think of it, combining them is what idyllic mornings are made of. You can easily keep to yourself while leisurely weaving around relaxed lookers and buyers and submersing in the homegrown heart of your community.

Now famer’s markets come in all shapes and sizes. Usually accompanied by live music and laid out between historic downtown and a park along the river, ours proves to be a quite pleasant thing indeed. Under the shade of various tents, the neatly tended tables tastefully display the talents and hard-earned efforts of the farmers and venders who live right up the road as well as those who have put on lots of miles in the hopes of earning a few bucks. There are the regulars and the newcomers. Young and old. Avid shoppers and people watchers.

While you may not know anyone by name, there is a certain level of comradery. For here at the Market, we all value honest, small family business. We appreciate farm-to-table food. Most know the ins and outs of sprouts, scobies and starters. When you casually hear “burp my jars” you don’t think twice and you know you are among friends. Connections are created as light heartened conversations result in new tip & trick takeaways. Just as it’s always been, the community continues to be welded together by its folks partaking in and sharing their trades, hobbies and God-given talents with each other.

You may leave with just a bouquet relaxed in one arm… or with a bag and basket filled to the brims… or even empty handed. Whichever way it is, you leave assured that while you homestead and home make your way through life you are surrounded by others doing the same. And we all need each other. Chances are: if you run out of raw honey or tallow cream your neighbor may very likely have a well-stocked table at next week’s market.

And who knows? Perhaps, dear reader, we will unknowingly pass each other among the kombuchas, crafted cutting boards and carrot tops; circling our merry way through the tents to the gentle strum of the acoustic guitars.