Faded Flowers

My little bags of “Faded Flowers”—imperfect soaps made with rose hips, dandelions or lavender—were a hit this week. And that’s good—because they won’t be there next week. There’s a limited supply of imperfection AND perfection on any given day at the farmers market.

I hesitate before putting anything less than perfect out on the table. But even though Faded Flowers aren’t the prettiest bars, they’re made with the same good ingredients. And when it comes down to being clean, that’s what matters most.

There’s still something to appreciate once you look past appearances. And sometimes, that’s what you need to do at an October farmers market. Walk around, take a look, and give yourself a chance to see what’s there.

A Quiet Saturday

It was a gorgeous day. Blue skies, sunshine, no humidity. Occasional gusts of wind mussed our hair, rearranged my signs, and kept the temperature just right. A perfect day to be outside.

With fewer vendors that morning, my table had been moved to a new spot beside Schneider’s Farm. It was early and quiet, and I felt unsettled. I don’t like change. I wondered how the day would go.

I watched some people get out of their cars, walk over to our farmers market field, and stop. They looked around with an expression that seemed to say, “Is that all there is?”

I caught myself making excuses.

“Is this your first time here? It’s not always this quiet…”

Sometimes I saw relief in their eyes, as though they were grateful someone had read their thoughts. But afterward, I wondered why I felt the need to apologize.

What does a farmers market need to be in New York, in October, as the growing season winds down?

Nothing Faded Here

Whenever the wind blew, the smell of fresh cilantro from Schneider’s Farm drifted across my tables. Don’t you love the smell of cilantro? I do!

The farm’s tables were loaded with greens. There were still tomatoes—perhaps fewer than a month ago, but there they were. Apples. Squash. Beets. Celery.

Nothing faded here.

At the beginning of the season, we had three farmers and dry, brown grass. Now the grass is greener, but this Saturday we had just one farmer. The view across the field had changed.

It has been changing all season. The garlic growers joined us for a few weeks in August before selling out. The Mid Island Dahlia Society arrived with bouquets in September, when the dahlias were coming into their own. This Saturday was their last market of the season, and they sold out, too.

At Backyard Bees, I started the season with one kind of honey. Now I have honey from three seasons and seven locations.

And the seasons show up in other ways on my table, too. Southern Sexy Body Polish made with hops and grains. A pumpkin-orange lip scrub, its color courtesy of sea buckthorn oil. Oatmeal Stout soap made with a local brew. If you’ve read “Beers, Bees and Me,” you know a little of the story behind those beer-inspired creations.

There may have been fewer stands on Saturday, but there was still plenty worth coming for.

What People Came For

One new customer was delighted to find good local honey for a high-protein cheesecake she planned to make. She had already picked up whole-milk yogurt and farm-fresh eggs.

Another had a bag full of frozen chicken from Moola Farms. She told me she wouldn’t buy meat at the grocery store anymore. She was particular about what she brought home, and she added my honey to her bag.

Those conversations reminded me that customers come to the market for different reasons. Some want a big field full of vendors and choices. Others come looking for a few good ingredients, and the people who can tell them about those ingredients.

I was so glad these customers took the time to stop at my table and talk with me. And I felt proud that my Backyard Bees honey was among the good things they found to bring home.

A farmers market isn’t a static thing. It changes with the weather, the crops, and the people who grow them. One week there are dahlias. Another week there are garlic growers. Then the tomatoes begin to disappear, the apples take their place, and eventually the season itself starts winding down.

That’s part of what makes a farmers market different from a grocery store. It’s not an endless supply of everything. There’s a reason. Sometimes what’s missing has simply finished its season.

What’s on the tables tells you something about what’s happening in the fields. And an empty space might have you wondering what’s coming next. I’m thinking pumpkins…

Look a Little Closer

That’s where my Faded Flowers came back to mind.

An imperfect bar of soap still has something to offer. A stand that has sold out may have had exactly what people wanted. And a small October market can still send you home with fresh vegetables, good eggs, local honey, and plans for something delicious.

Sometimes we decide something isn’t worth our attention because it doesn’t look the way we expected it to look.

I almost did that myself on Saturday.

I saw the empty spaces first. But then I started noticing what was still there.

The cilantro in the air. The vegetables on the farm stand tables. The last dahlias of the season. Customers talking about what they were going to make with the things they had found.

The market was smaller than it had been.

It wasn’t empty.

Next Saturday brings another craft market, so expect a fuller parking lot. But when the season gets quiet again, I hope I remember what Saturday taught me:

Don’t judge a farmers market by the number of tents.

Look at what’s on the tables.

Look at who’s standing behind them.

And sometimes, look a little closer at the things that aren’t quite perfect.

You might find that there’s still plenty there to appreciate.

Continue Exploring

A Real Farmers Market at Eisenhower Park what makes the farmers market at Eisenhower park so special to me; find links to all the market reports here

It Started with Hello last week’s market report