First stop: Kate’s sustainable greens— arugula, braising mix, spinach, spicy salad mix, kale, and in season, basil and tangerine gem marigolds, heirloom tomatoes, spicy kimchi and even family news. Kate asks after my family and reminds me about the Sacred Harp singing, lets me write her a check for over the amount for the rest of my shopping.

Currants, raspberries, and blueberries have succeeded strawberries, asparagus and rhubarb at Fritz’s stand, and he’s got some terrific onions and raw milk cheeses, too.

Then, there’s that irresistible mousetrap, The Wedge, baited with samples of Brie, Manchego, and Capriole goat cheese accompanied by Rachel’s ringing laughter and the ricottas she’s made herself.  Fennel, eggplant and fresh chicken call me to Creekside Farm’s stand.

White Yarrow Farm’s baby white turnips and broccoli catch my eye through the frieze of Jo’s peonies, cornflowers, larkspur. Then there’s tender fresh ginger at Clay Bottom Farm, baskets of rounded tomatoes, fresh peaches, peppers, lettuces.

Across the aisle I pick up eggs and frozen bone broth from Vintage Meadows, then pause to watch Bob Smoker at the potter’s wheel, a group of children gathered round. On the corner stage a bluegrass group’s been plucking and tapping the rhythms of joy and abundance as I fill my baskets.

Last stop, Anna’s Bread. I heap my bags on one of her bakery tables, stand in line for a croissant and coffee while scouting out old friends and students at the other tables— conversations to be had with the generations, though always bring my journal for writing, just in case.