I first meandered through the 32nd Street Farmers Market about 5,000 apples, peaches, melons, and salads ago. According to the solar calendar, that makes me a customer of nearly 40 years.

A Saturday morning visit to the market feels like a weekly reset. It’s time for myself and just to take a breath. No one needs me. I can just wander and shop.

“You don’t have to make an appointment to meet anyone at the market. You can just show up and be.”