January 20, 2022

The local farmer’s market: a place of absolute serenity, yet organized chaos. And, thus, ever since I can remember, I made it a mission to be at the market. While it was open on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, I decidedly recognized such days as my favorites. Indeed, at the age of four, I—from the backseat—begged my mother to take me. “Let’s stop at the mawket mawket!” I used to exclaim, while seeing the market’s building through the glossy car window. It all started as a stop on my way to preschool, as I would fantasize about party dogs (“pigs in a blanket” to most other people) or a cinnamon sugar soft pretzel from a certain stand.

At times, I purchased a decorated sugar cookie for the holidays. On other occasions, I felt the utter necessity to seek out a donut, with an excessive amount of rainbow sprinkles from the many bakery stands, of course. I was enthralled by the candy counter that seemed to stretch for miles, its assorted display case featuring every type of chocolate and candy imaginable. 

As such, I begged my mom for a mini Scooby-Doo balloon, always attempting to muster up a reason to grab a colorful piñata that hung about the candy counter. In high school, the market emerged as an after-school tradition between my friends and I, or rather, a common Saturday morning event.

Consequently, for as long as I can remember, the farmer’s market has remained a consistent and comfortable place. Ranging from preschool to high school, my farmer’s market has been home to the same shops, which I never seem to grow tired of. It is also somewhere I can always guarantee to run into someone I know, whether it is neighbors, family friends, or old high school classmates. 

When Saturday rolled around this past Thanksgiving break, my friends–as an almost unspoken rule–planned to meet at the farmer’s market. Unsurprisingly, I found that nothing had changed: the same worker served me at my favorite breakfast cafe, wherein I typically get a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich, and I ran into old friends I hadn’t seen since high school.

For the last two years, which included a pandemic and starting college, I recognize how much my life has changed. While some of this change was exciting and positive, some was foreign and unanticipated. Yet, through these significant shifts in my life, there are aspects that remain constant. Maybe this change is most palpable through examining the feeling of returning home to my childhood room that I have long outgrown, or the chaotic, full household I come home to after living independently in college. However, instead of entertaining a negative outlook, I appreciate and take comfort in these little consistencies. Just like the farmer’s market, some things never change - and maybe that’s not such a bad thing.