On a recent day of above average temperatures I decided a ride to one of my favorite farm markets was in order. Skin in the wind, it felt like it would be a perfect evening for grilling out once I got home. However as I passed by the shady side of a nearby ski slope, twinkling lights marking snow-covered trails, the realization came that I was a couple months early for finding fresh produce.

No matter. A beautiful afternoon for riding, the winding roads led to the sensation of travelling a great distance without really going anywhere. And in the case of this market it’s as much fun to browse as it is to buy. Just walking inside can feel like a step back in time, or at least to places I’ve known in the past where so much is homemade, handmade, and unique. Oh, and the honor system is still in play. I’ve yet to see anyone working on my visits so checking out consists of writing my purchases down in the ledger on the counter and dropping my payment in a marked box. Change is available in an adjacent basket but in a world where you always have to pre-pay for gas, I’m so thrilled with this granted trust I always round up and leave a little more than I’m asked for.

It looks like the store is between seasons, too early for just picked veggies and the last of the winter goods lingering on the shelves. Moving through the scent of potatoes, dried herbs, and potpourri, I look over jars of jams, crocheted scarves, and assorted knick-knacks.

I see a charming burlap bunny sporting a checked shirt and denim overalls, reaching for him I think he might be a cute Easter gift for my niece. But as I picked up the doll an unexplained sense of nostalgia overwhelmed me and I realized this would join my own knick-knacks at home.

Or maybe I should find a way to fasten him in behind the windshield of the bike? A riding buddy/mascot to lead the way to the next Wonderland?