Today by venturing down from my mountain retreat I became caught up in the bustle of a Sunday market–lots of fresh flowers, organic produce, strolling people, freshly made crepes–Yummmm. Walking back to my car with my clutch of tulips in one hand and a bag of pears in the other I ran into a church congregation walking out the church and around to the side grounds. Everyone carried palms. A bagpiper lead the way. His sound was breathtaking amid the churn of cars, the laughter of bicyclists just down from their morning trek and all the other noises around a town square on a Sunday morning. I stopped and listened to the piper, soaking in memories of Scotland and appreciating all that wonderful flavor of my town.
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