farmer's market

Now for something completely different.

Farmer's Market season has begun in earnest. Wednesday I forgot my troubles and immersed myself in this busy scene. I felt myself slow down in the middle of the bustle and drink in the sights and smells; I willed myself to slow slow slooooww down and just be there.


Oh to shed the cares and stuff of life and just carry everything you need on a bike like this. Load up with vegetables and bread and pedal out to a beautiful spot for a picnic with good friends.


Swimming in color and texture. Shrink down and be a bee, nestle into something soft and brilliant. Swath up an armload of beauty and present it to your lover. Or hand it out, stem by stem, to strangers passing by.


Taste the sweetness of life. Savor every drop and then lick the spoon.



The abundance of Mother Earth is truly a blessing. It has never been more important to acknowledge this. Seeing the world as a place of safety and abundance will reflect itself into our inner life, and again into our personal space.


What will you plant in your inner landscape? Will it be a cool white night garden? Or a flamboyant spread of tangled color and trailing shapes? Maybe a serene herbal spiral to sit and dream in, inhaling healing and majick.


Here's one of nd's favorite veggies. I love asparagus roasted with a little balsamic vinegar, or steamed and then steeped in a great vinagrette. I grew some once, in the faraway past of toddling girls and homebaked bread. Not one spear made it past the garden gate: homegrown asparagus is best consumed the minute you snap it off at the dirtline.


More abundance. Recently I've been preparing cauliflower in a spinoff idea from South Beach Diet: steam until very soft, then smash it up like you're making mashed potatoes. I add butter, salt, pepper, and a little plain yogurt. Turns out I can eat almost an entire head in this fashion.

I like broccoli best raw, or in a stir fry; it tastes yummy cooked with eggs, or cold with cottage cheese and Spike.


Seems a little early for peaches.... ah, California. Sweet blessed breasts of the Goddess. I chose apricots instead this week. Plenty of summer still to come.


What would you preserve in a jar to keep for the winter? I'd try to capture the warm sun on my shoulders during morning yoga on the deck. The sweet earthy smell of forest sponge while hiking up the local trail. The sound of the robin that wakes me up every morning with sweet urgency. The sight of my sweet five year old mastering the jumprope: 41, 42, 43, 44, 45....


Vibrant beauty is all around us. Goddess whispers: slow, slow, slowly. Look around. Really see. Don't miss a minute, for tomorrow it is all gone, all gone.


Dance, dance, to the rhythm of life. It is pulsing and pounding all around you. Listen to your inner beat, slow it down, there's no hurry. Dance and dance and hug your children. Love yourself like there's no tomorrow.