Nature's Bounty

There is one thing that I look forward to each week with anticipation and joy.  It's not quite like Christmas morning because it happens every week.  Like Christmas, I never tire of the ritual even if it requires me to get out of bed earlier than I would prefer.  Unlike Christmas, it happens every Saturday.  It turns this sacred day, or should I say morning, that comes after every college student's well deserved Friday night, from untroubled, uninterrupted sleep into another kind of ritual.   I haven't considered Saturday to be a perfect day for sleeping in quite some time. I was usually planning some adventurous hike up a mountain that may or may not have included beautiful powder turns on the way down.  It is still not a perfect day for sleeping since Saturday brings with it the much anticipated, weekly, colorful and vibrant market.  Yes!  This Colorado mountain girl is in love with Costa Rican produce.  Will I ever tire of drinking fresh coconut water served up with the chop of a machete and a straw?  Every Saturday my boisterous vendor smiles and tells me how beautiful I am looking as he hands me my coconut.  Most Saturday's I roll over, look at my clock and groan as I struggle to get dressed and to the market by 9.  Yes, 9.  I could do better, I think but 9 seems like a fine accomplishment these Saturdays.  And my coconut vendor spoils me week after week.  What girl would not get out of bed for that?

But there's more.  Row upon row of gorgeous hues of green lettuces, herbs, squashes and broccoli. Orange tomatoes spilling over tables.  Yellow squashes and the beautiful burnt orange flesh of papayas split open on display alongside mouth watering red watermelons. Green beans, lima beans and pinto beans mingle.  Red and green peppers, cauliflower, mushrooms, brussels sprouts, cucumber, carrots, chayote are waiting to paint my palette.  Star fruit, apples, passion fruit, pears, berries, bananas, granadillas, grapefruit and plums ripe for my picking.  Is pejivalle a fruit or a vegetable?  Will I ever tire of pineapple for breakfast?  Everyday I look forward to my fresh fruit bowl piled high with granola on top.  Heaven!  Oh CSA I was always so grateful for your weekly modest presence in the mountains of Colorado but nothing could prepare me for this weekly orgy of color, smell, taste and sounds.

Markets are social.  It's the unofficial after party of UPEACE.  Greeting classmates, swapping recipes, and sharing knowing glances after a good night of reading, writing, dancing, drinking - whatever it may be we share in this gathering tradition.  No hunting, just gathering.  Hunting for knowledge fills our weekly quota for killing books and slaying papers.

After a vigorous romp through the market and loaded down with burgeoning reusable bags, the next treat awaits a stone's throw away.  This once a week break from the home sliced fruit plate can only be had at the market cafeteria.  Traditional gallo pinto with a side of friend's laughter.  Saturday morning brings with it a different kind of relaxation and it's just lovely.

This Saturday I made two trips to the market in preparation for Thanksgiving.  The Jens are hosting and we are going to be cooking up a storm between finishing classes and papers.  Luckily, there is no school for us as we'll be writing industriously but we will take this one day to remind us of home and share it with our friends.  We've set the mark high and are aiming for a Norman Rockwell feast but will be thankful for whatever and whomever is at our table.  Thankfulness will prevail as it often does in every moment, struggle, tear and laugh of graduate school.  There will be more soppy thankfulness blogs to follow so I won't wear you out here.  

Please take a look at the picture I took with some of my bounty.  Today I was incredibly fortunate to find an eight pound butternut squash.  I carried it home like a 3 month old baby in my arms.  My friends asked "What are you going to do with that?"  I'm going to stuff it.  I don't know why that's so funny but each person I said that to laughed.