It was early - not even 9 a.m. I decided to walk to the local market, no list in hand. I just wanted some fresh berries before the heat rolled in.
What I got instead was a little summer adventure.

The woman selling raspberries offered me some from her hand.
“These are the first ones,” she smiled, “sweet and still cool from the night.”
That one bite took me straight back to childhood - picking berries in the garden while the leaves were still wet with dew.

I picked up small cucumbers, a bunch of dill, a little jar of honey. And a soft cheese bun from an elderly lady.

I walked home slowly. In my bag - herbs and sunlight. In my chest - calm.

That simple market walk reminded me: life isn’t a sprint. It’s sometimes just wandering between stands full of smells, berries - and memories.