Scenes From a Saturday morning farmer's market

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Once a month I come here, rain or shine

for a fresh muffin and burnt coffee

served by the same person every Saturday.

It is a great little trip to get out of the house.

These walls start talking to you

if a person does not get out and about

and my walls have sixty-seven years of stories.

There are people all around here,

buzzing around this little market bistro.

A line up for the delicious smelling breakfast

served by Helen and Theresa.

I believe they are sisters,

never confirmed but they look a like.

That is good enough for me.

Mable over there, at her table making jewellery

out of little, coloured rocks with decorative silver.

Necklaces, earrings, you name it, she makes it.

Mable sells a few pieces a weekend

but not very many compared to the talking

that goes on constantly at her table.

Sometimes I think talking is all she really wants.

Now Murray, who is right beside Mable

does constant business selling his jams.

They are all homemade.

Strawberry, raspberry and conversation

are big sellers for him.

Murray comes for the people

since his retirement.

Such a great way to spend the day.

Like seeing Farmer Dan behind his stand,

displaying all the meats and vegetables

that a person can see, all fresh.

You can see the care he puts in his display

and the care in the people that visit him.

Great to see how much Farmer Dan

likes being here.

Every time I am here it is all the same.

The familiarity warms the heart,

the smiles, the joy of people.

All taken in over my burnt coffee

on Saturday mornings.

By Andrew Scott

From: Canada

Website: https://www.andrewmscott.com/

Instagram: andrewscott1971

Twitter: JustMaritimeBoy