To Market, To Market

Although I'm annoyed when the alarm goes off on Saturday mornings, I never regret it when I actually manage to drag myself out of bed and out to the market. Not only because I can get très jolie fruits and vegetables there for significantly less than at the supermarché, but also because it just makes me happy--the farmers and bakers and cheese makers with all their beautiful wares, all the people out with their little baskets, hearing the sing songy French of the transactions, neighbors greeting each other, couples working out the ingredients they need for the delicious meal they will have in a few hours, or the big family get-together, or the dinner party they have planned. The discussions of the merits of this or that flower or garlic or cut of meat. The general hubbub at the market and surrounding cafes that is always such a marked difference from the sleepy peacefulness that usually reigns on Saturday mornings. The obvious enjoyment that almost everyone there is reaping out of this community ritual, the excitement about the meals to come from these jolis produits...The vibe is oh so French, and it reminds me why I love France.

Normally I find it totally bizarre how late the sun rises around here (right now hovering at around 8:30 am), and it certainly doesn't make it any easier to get up early when it's still pitch black outside until well after my first class starts. But tired and grumpy as I may be, I can't help but be awestruck from time to time by the beauty of those pre-dawn moments (as I head to the cafeteria for my bread and gigantic bowl of coffee). This morning was one of those times--the stars twinkling in the gorgeous clear black sky, the soft, warm wind that swept over my face as I opened the door, the clouds drifting quickly by the bright crescent moon, still high in the sky, and the feeling of calm the whole scene elicited. Beautiful.