24th June, 2017
Among many other things, I am thinking about the other day in the Gardens, with the rain and the evening tones and how exquisite everything looked…the deep greens, the flower colors, the way the rain was shot through with light…Part of what I was aware of was how that whole, right at that moment, was part of my vision of heaven. As though we’d walked right into it. Being here, now, in the Market, I realize that the warm rumbly murmur hanging over this space is a part of that vision as well. And there are so many things that are a part of that sound… the greetings of the “50,000 coyotes can’t be wrong!” purveyor of lamb to the right of the table where I am sitting; the singing of the woman working School House Gluten Free Gourmet on the other side; Conversations between passers-by and the woman by the steps peddling the Street Beat; the quiet between older couples walking by and holding hands. And then to draw into this all of the textures and singular beauty of plants, vegetables, woven baskets, people…the textures and all of the colors…and the little girl in the long pink batik dress who just skipped by wearing a jacket with a dinosaur tail running from the peak of the hood to past the hem.