Heavy wet snow by the many inches. Again. Biweekly major snowstorms have marked this April. Power outages were felt across Vermont. A generator hummed. Day one. Day two.
I was bound to leave my little house on the hill this morning. It has been days since I have gone anywhere. The plowed driveway would allow passage. Not waiting for sunlight anymore just the light of day. Sunshine has been as elusive as spring this far north. A quick trip to my favorite local market to replenish some fruit, bread, and milk was my destination. Post Office too.
An easy drive down my road and past a snow-covered ski mountain that had been forced to give up on winter weeks ago. A dearth of powder in January and February led to an early close in March.
I continued to a neighboring town and the market. The parking lot a mix of locals and out of staters. Massachusetts won the honors in my license plate game. Just 8:20 am. The eclipse…
Warm and friendly this sweet market is and so welcoming. Fresh flowers in tall metal containers greet customers. Beautifully merchandised. Tulips in shades of dusty purple, and striking blends of pinks and oranges. Wooden produce cases stacked with an organic perfection. Displays bursting with fresh vibrant colors. A visual symphony.
The appeal of this market is also in the familiar. The grocery business is in my veins. I grew up in a family grocery business that was started by my father and his brother. The “old store” and the original Trucchi’s was equally warm and welcoming. Of course, different but not. Another hard-working family business that was dedicated to the local population it served. A business I understand. I know it well. I am more comfortable in a grocery store than most any other business. Well, except for maybe a boutique or two.
Pink tulips rested on the top of my groceries as I placed the bag on the front passenger seat. The sky, bright. Driving home Bruce Springsteen’s “The Wayfarer” was playing on the radio just as I approached my next stop. I kept driving. Somethings are just more important…
“Some find peace here on the sweet streets, the sweet streets of home
Where kindness falls and your heart calls for a permanent place of your own” –Bruce Springsteen “The Wayfarer.”
