Farmers’ Market This Morning
Sep. 21st, 2025 06:54 pmAt the farmers’ market this morning, one of the young men at the Twin Springs Fruit Farm stand told me that he planned to read my father’s book on Nietzsche. As background, he had told me on a previous Sunday that he was majoring in history and philosophy, and I had told him about my father (R.I.P.), a professor of philosophy. This morning, I commented that it was too bad that I couldn’t let my father know of his interest.
They often have live music at the farmers’ market. This week, while shopping, I heard someone with a lovely voice singing something like, “Lemons and limes make a bitter cider/Who knew that two hearts could be so much on fire?” Having bought what I wanted (including Twin Springs Fruit Farm cider, the first of the season, and much better than the supermarket version), I went to listen more deliberately, and tossed a tip into the container. A fresh-faced white woman sang some more, accompanied by a brown-skinned man playing the electric guitar (he may have been of Asian Indian ancestry, or perhaps New World mestizo; I heard him say a few words, and he spoke American English without a detectable accent). I got to hear some above average live music.
They often have live music at the farmers’ market. This week, while shopping, I heard someone with a lovely voice singing something like, “Lemons and limes make a bitter cider/Who knew that two hearts could be so much on fire?” Having bought what I wanted (including Twin Springs Fruit Farm cider, the first of the season, and much better than the supermarket version), I went to listen more deliberately, and tossed a tip into the container. A fresh-faced white woman sang some more, accompanied by a brown-skinned man playing the electric guitar (he may have been of Asian Indian ancestry, or perhaps New World mestizo; I heard him say a few words, and he spoke American English without a detectable accent). I got to hear some above average live music.