Visiting Pike Place Market certainly isn’t new to me. I work less than a 10-minute walk away, and my bus departs for home just 2 blocks up Pike from it – but the Market takes on a unique feel early in the morning on Sundays. It’s this time of the day when the Market feels most unique and real to me. Not that it isn’t the rest of the time, but as vendors are opening-up shop and stacking their wares is when they’re most approachable to me. They’ll chat more (albiet while they’re unpacking), and you can really learn something from them when they haven’t been sapped by their 1,000th question about the first Starbucks or the location of the bathrooms. I guess what I’m trying to say is that they’re most personable at this hour. They ask more questions (“What’s all the fish for?” “Inviting others to enjoy that, too?” “Live closeby?”) and seem more sincere in wanting answers. Later in the day, their questions sound more contrived – although maybe it’s just the way I perceive it as I’ve been taxed by questions, too, by day’s end.
I love meandering through the maze of vehicles to my favorite fish shop in search of mussels or clams or smoked fish-bellies. I love the warmth my loaf of bread still holds – hearkening back to still being in their ‘rising’ stage when my eyes were still blisfully closed and my head on pillow. I love the freshness of the air – not yet tinged with spilled lattes and sun-warmed fish entrails. Even the wafting scents from Daily Dozen seem to linger as they dance to my nose to the music provided by buskers.
Every weekend should involve an early morning spent talking to vendors … selecting fruit perfection … gathering blossoms so bright they make you squint, and eyeing vendors with fresh smiles and witty banter. Is it too late to make a New Year’s Resolution in August?