A farmers' market in our old neighbourhood. The whole experience made me feel nostalgic for a slower, more gentle way of life. Remembering Saturday mornings visiting the widowed Ukrainian sisters next door: enjoying tea and treats while sitting at their kitchen table catching up on the neighbourhood news, while their budgie chattered away and their three cats and one dog all nudged for attention; taking in the view of their amazing garden out back; but more than anything, just enjoying their company. Fond memories.
Great capture and memories. My mum used to leave me with my Great aunt Clara who had a market stall on Saturdays whilst she went off and did some shopping. I remember the bunches of snowdrops and violets and pussy willow she used to sell along with vegetables from her market garden.I am wondering if that is where my love of flowers began.
A wonderful capture of the market, I love your narrative and am sure you have some wonderful memories to cherish. Do you still see the sisters Heather?
@wendyfrost What a lovely memory and part of your childhood, Wendy! Yes, I think there is a good chance that your love of flowers began with your time with your Great aunt Clara- a lovely legacy of hers too! :-)
