Memorial Day weekend ushers in the opening of the Oak Park Farmer's Market season. In typical fashion, we bypass the rows of fresh produce and head right to the donuts. To state that these donuts are unlike any other, that they define Oak Park, that they transform a town's inhabitants come summer is an understatement. Perhaps it is the ambiance. The parking lot of Pilgrim Church is a happy grid lock of strollers, dog walkers, and members of the local bluegrass band. Orderly stacks of herbs, plants and fresh baked breads mingle with crates of rhubarb. Card tables and chairs are set up for early morning lounging. The 10-15 member band, a staple at the market, strumming the strings on their banjos and fiddles in unison as if they've been reading from the same sheet music for years but playing with Saturday morning informalities. Pure enjoyment on the faces on all those who are there. The Farmer's Market is the very definition of Oak Park summer. I'm so glad it's here. Ella coasted in her stroller to the farmer's market; towed by Jerry's bicycle. Nervous Nelly (me) watched on trying my hardest to filter my concerns. Proud to report that we escaped with no injury aside from a necessary sugar high.
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