Who knows what this is?

Who knows what anything is except itself in this moment.  Happy Saturday.  Perhaps, the farmers market will provide the necessary wisdom.  It often does.  

Dry and parched

Opportunity to slow down & wait to see the next great living, start.  A bud, a new shoot, a baby quail, a lizard.  Perhaps, even a sunflower seed (although they are never singular).  This litany is long & wide -- thank goodness.   Let's celebrate anything and everything in the farmers market.  

Anticipation is a state of tomorrow

because tomorrow our local farmers market opens for the season.  And I mean local -- as in walkable unless seasonal purchases too heavy with bounty.  Life can be sweet, can be healthy, can be non-toxic.  And life unfolds as roots dictate.  Soil -- believe in it.  Believe in the roots of words.  Love your Latin.

Enough

Can't get enough of the ripe & juicy.
Can't get enough of the ripe & the rooty.
Think of tubers.  As varied as the voices
of poetry.  As varied as the offerings
at a farmer's market.  Perhaps, this post
should be reposted, "Celebrate."