Market Day

All across America people woke up early this morning. Poured their coffee into a travel mug and went out to search for something. A bargain. Or a living. It is market day. The first farmers' market of the year in my little town. A herald of summer's bounty. Held every first and third Saturday of the month until October. On the town common a five-minute walk down to the end of my road. It not much to look at. A dozen vendors on a good day. But it does not get any more local. Everyone who sells there comes from within the township. And it provides a cadence and a venue for civic events.

Open air public markets have been around as long as civilization. Farmers' markets are ones where the producers sell agricultural products direct to the consumer. America's first public market was the Boston Market which opened near the docks in 1634. It was a familiar sight to those used to European markets and other colonies soon had their own markets. Easton, Pennsylvania's farmers market has been in continuous operation since 1752. But the Dane County, Wisconsin Farmer's market is America's largest with as many as 275 vendors. The Downtown Farmers' Market in my hometown of Des Moines is a little smaller with around 200. Farmers' Markets are more popular than ever.

For centuries they were a cornerstone of our food supply. But they declined as grocery stores became more common in the post-war era. Consumers preferred the convenience, variety, and year-round availability offered by grocers. But New England never completely got away from traditional markets. Relying on mom and pops in small towns that could not support a grocery store. Smallholders right to farm is enshrined in law here. Almost every little town will have a market gardener or two, and a few people selling their spare eggs. More than a quarter of the region's agricultural product is sold direct to consumers. Through farmers' markets, CSAs, and roadside farmstands which have a cashbox and run on the honor system.

The renaissance of farmers' markets of the last couple of decades is really a return of their historical importance. Part of an unfulfilled desire to go back to the land. Not everyone can live on a farm, but anyone can go to a farmers' market and feel country for the day. In our homogenized culture the desire for craft products and a unique buying experience is a strong draw. A visit to it is often the first stop of one's weekly errands. Ours is steps from the public library and the town museum. Trips to market begin the weekly food shop which may involve stops at farms as well as grocers in our case.

The farmers' market is a place where you run into friends and neighbors. Which may not be a value add if you are in a hurry. But the social aspect is even more important than the commercial one in my community. Saturday morning trips to the market and library are prime family time. In a place that is good to raise a family, but where there is not all that much to go out and do with them. The producer's pride at their wares is like a sneak peek at the county fair. And garden club plant sales, pie baking contests, and chili cookoffs are all annual events.

People are not as civic minded as they used to be. We do not join as many organizations, which used to involve us in community life. But commerce brings us into contact with a great many people, who we do not even know yet add value to our lives. It enables people who would otherwise hate each other to deal with and help one another. Which makes markets a kind of public forum. The poet and novelist Wendell Berry said, "Eating is an agricultural act." I would take it a step further to say that coming together as a community around that common need is a political one.

I am not a farmer, or homesteader, or even a particularly good gardener. But I live in a place where those things are normal and am making an effort in that direction. I voted with my feet when I moved here, and I vote with my dollars to support it. Today it was a poppy seed bagel from a woman who came to see us on planning board about opening a stand. A few fancy dog treats from a couple that lives the other end of town. And a few bills stuck in a jar for a local girl’s heart transplant. The library was doing a Wizard of Oz story time, and the staff came out and walked around dressed as Dorothy and her friends. A man played guitar, and he sang old folk songs. The rain kept threatening but it did not fall. A good day at the market.