At the Farmer's Market

Every Thursday the Farmer's Market comes to Westwood. The end of Weyburn is closed off to the traffic. Small stalls spring up selling the famous California tangerines and Clementines and Naval oranges. And a fruity smell wafts beckoningly through the air. And invariably I find my feet almost involuntarily moving in that direction. And it's a rural atmosphere, people seem to slow the pace of their lives as they hang around, familiarly greeting friends and regulars at the Market, tasting the wares before buying them, getting a glass of juice while they're shopping, or something to eat... bringing their children out for the evening...

There's a man who sits at the beginning of the street and plays his guitar and sings. Warm notes of "Scarborough Fair" drift through the air, and appropriately I was standing by a herb seller who had parsley and sage. Further down where there are exotic cuisines, Korean ,Peruvian and Salvadorean, there is also a Jazz band that entertains the people eating there. And several small bakeries just pop up, selling scones and cookies and yummy pies and cakes and French bread.

I contented myself with a Salvadoren Pupasa and turned resolutely away from the inviting breads. But my resolve was not up to withstanding the temptation of freshly picked sstrawberries... I took a small bunch of them home and ate them with whipped cream... and now I feel replete and content. God's up in his Heaven and all's well with the World