On a hazy and humid Sunday afternoon, my mom and I decided to make the hour long trip to a local farmers’ market overlooking one of the Finger Lakes. With the windows rolled down and the sunroof back, we enjoyed the breeze and listened to some of our favorite songs, taking in the scenery and lush green hills of the countryside. When we arrived, the parking area was crowded and dust from departing cars floated lazily through the hot air. We immediately stocked up on water bottles and entered the market.
Floral aromas greeted my senses almost instantly. Stands of freshly picked sunflowers, hydrangeas, and other beautiful flowers stretched along an old wooden walkway and bees hummed as they wove in and out of perfectly prepared bouquets. Farmers brought their fresh organic greens, plump tomatoes, and other harvested goods to the forefront, the brilliant hues of the various vegetables catching the eye of all passersby. Vendors from far off countries hung flags outside of their stands and offered their national cuisine in assortments of dishes.
Even at times when I am not necessarily looking for art, art always seems to find me
With so much to do, we wasted no time. We tried some simple Cuban and Cambodian dishes and finished off with a Turkish dessert. At the farmers’ market, nothing seemed out of place and every stand offered something new and exciting. It wasn’t until I bought myself a few sunflowers at one of the stands that an attractive golden sign caught my eye. I wandered over, only to discover some of the most gorgeous hand-made pottery I had ever seen. Delicate cerulean blue plates and earthy red bowls spun on the wheel to perfection filled the wooden shelves. I was mesmerized by the smoothness of the curves and the precision of the colored glazes melding into one another. I moved on from that stand to one containing beautiful photographs of scenic Upstate New York. The woman selling them had taken the thousands of photographs herself, capturing some of the most amazing shots of the beauties of nature. A rainbow stretching across the rippling waters of Cayuga Lake, a close-up shot of a waterfall pounding tirelessly against the earth as springtime began to melt away the remnants of ice, and greenery surpassing the brightest of emeralds are a few that I very clearly remember. They were so alive and so real, moments that were there for an instant and then gone, and she had reproduced these moments to absolute perfection. I was so happy to have been able to see such amazing work in person, done by such humble and talented people.
Leaving the farmers’ market that day, it struck me that even at times when I am not necessarily looking for art, art always seems to find me. I love nothing more than exploring new places, and just happening to discover beautiful art crafted by such free spirited individuals only made Sunday’s adventure that much better.
