Word picture from the Farmer's Market

Went to the farmer's market today, which was lovely and relaxed, with an old-time music festival in the adjoining park. People flowed back and forth between the two, eating plates of delicious smelling food, and biting into apples and peaches. Small dancing children, chatting adults, young ccouples on blankets.

If-I'd-Had-A-Camera Moment: A grey haired lady who had a small table covered with little cobalt blue bottles and a sign saying "homemade healing herbals." Standing in front of her table, a woman held opened her blouse while the grey haired lady earnestly rubbed an oil between her breasts. The woman getting the mini-healing-massage had her eyes closed, her face up to the sun and such a deep look of surrender, while we all walked around her, in the warmth and the music and the smells of cooking food. What was the story here, I wondered. Breast cancer? Heartache?

A few days ago I ran into a friend and asked about something he'd told me about a few weeks earlier. How can you remember I was doing that? he asked.

Easy. The stories are so endlessly interesting. I go around gleaning moments, as lives brush up against mine, and just for a few seconds, or a year, or a lifetime, our stories flow together.