So much to tantalize the senses at a farmers' market—the fragrance of roasting chickens dripping their juices on browned potatoes, the visual impact of red and orange seasonal fruit, the earthy feel of globular mushrooms, the plaintive melody of the Andean flutes (to which two Airdale terriers listen, rapt), the spices in the Oaxacan tamales, steamily unwrapped.
The bounty of the earth, to buy or just enjoy while you walk down the row of stalls stealing glimpses.
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