I rock my Maine summers at Farmer's Market.  As a vender at three markets, I anxiously await Opening Day with that first-day-of-school anticipation.  I love the Marketplaces' milieu - the people that come, other venders I call friends.  It's a place where I can "hay while the haying is good", and the only time I get to enjoy Maine's fleeting summer warmth.

At one market, I can smell fresh lamb sausages wafting on a mid summer breeze.  At another, it's feeling the electrifying excitement generated by the market's very presence, being long awaited and most welcomed by its community.  At the third, it's the sound of laughter and folks sharing conversation.  It is at this market that I hear one laugh above all the others - a laugh so hardy, so deep it booms; and inside, my soul rocks, too.

In the summer, the Markets rock with families - some members teetering on inexperienced legs, some well seasoned; some rock together as mother and daughter, some as a crew.  The dogs, in a plethora of colors, breeds, and sizes, all come to rock with their owners; and I watch in amazement all the rocking people from near and far.

From my fellow venders, I learn a great deal, real life stuff, like how Brussels sprouts grow, and how to tell the difference between a male and a female lobster by sight.  Then there's the sharing of news and market trends, of the good sales days and the slow, and battling wind and rain together.  That all rocks!

The beauty of Maine, summer or winter, from her shores to her mountains to her lakes is unequivocal.  However, the magic of Maine's people and the fruits of their labor are in bloom and rocking at Maine's summertime Farmer's Markets.