The Farmers Market in our town is on Saturday mornings. It is in the downtown. While buying produce I sometimes chat with the farmers. Once, one said he woke up at 3 AM, picked the corn, loaded the truck and here he was. He had the tired but content look. Corn is at its sweetest when picked in the early hours.
Rythu Bazaaru are the same in AP, India. Every city boasts of a few and every town has at least one. Rythu = Farmer, Bazaaru = Bazaar, Market. Fresh produce directly from the farms all around. From the growers themselves.
Ever noticed how earthy and alive the farmers look? Irrespective of their location and economic level, they exude the vitality of living close to earth and of a meaningful livelihood. Sadly, not all can make ends meet, in either country.
Here is a picture story of one morning in our Farmers Market.
|Rise and Shine|
Into the sunny stands we come, take us home...
The advantage of going to a market over here apart from the obvious is the chance to buy produce free of pesticides but not yet certified as organic. Which means we pay less for the same. Some products can only be found in the markets, or the quality is very high- homemade bread, concord grapes, medjool dates and if you like, sauerkraut. If you not a vegetarian unlike me, you may like: fresh fish, cuts from the ethically raised and eggs from free range birds. You can tell the quality of an egg from the brightness of the yellow, I was once told by a farm girl.
Odds, ends and more...
|Catch me if you can|
|Jingle the money box|
|Here comes the music man, the music man...|
Look what I did.
|Spot the difference: Where did the used OJ bottle on the closed up trash come from?|
I increased the entropy, that's all I did. Okay, I removed the bottle later. But the entropy still stayed high, right?