With the sky beginning to show some light,

all busy hands are oh so busy, busy ...

... yet indeed, there will always be a smile on the face of the experienced ones ...

.... when new crafters struggle in poor light

with the Chinese puzzle of that new gazebo that seems to have a life of its own,

and a mean streak that defies their most nonchalant efforts

to look like cool, collected, and well experienced crafters.

And as the accompanying debate that verges on the edge of argument

leaves the sounds in the crisp morning air,

of A comes here and C goes there,

red does not go with blue, this is blue not that,

... etcetera, etcetera, etcetera ...,

the code, more confusing that Da Vinci's own,

is deciphered - producing all too often a Picasso, rather than a Mona Lisa

(and of course, the manufacturers obviously got the instructions all wrong).

And all the while the neighbours, ever willing to help,

rather hold back to stay clear of the pending fray,

but also from knowing that the lessons of self discovery,

are the lessons best learned and remembered - well, at least till next time.

 Still, when all else has failed, help is always close at hand

and bonds are forged at either end of gazebo poles,

and well designed trestles that are simply not made,

to accommodate the sloping and irregular terrain

and unexpected mole-holes that appear without fail,

exactly under the foot of the tables carrying the most delicate pottery.

But before another thing be done,

and let it first be said,

that this bemused smile of " the experienced ones"

is a right well earned,

through their own strugglings, their own embarrassments,

(though of course they may deny this)

and their own endurance of the smiles of

their generation of "experienced ones",

when they too stumbled along

the same cobbled road to the Market.

So it is a smile filled with understanding, compassion,

and fond memories.

Perhaps the smile is directed at themselves.

and work proceeds, unabated, as brick by brick the market rises,

out of the darkness, and into the faint morning light.

And skilled hands and deft fingers, fit and erect,

the eclectic mix of makeshift but imaginative shop fronts,

that make such a market, a real-life experience.

When the increasing light brings colour to the scene,

and the greys turn to rainbow shades,

shapes become craftworks, and craftworks reveal more of their characters,

in crimsons and  blues, yellows and greens, oranges and lemons.

Then it is time for husbands to meet and chat about the latest games,

or swop fishing (or is that fishy?) stories,

while wives add the feminine touches to their stalls,

hiding away the ingenious hardware constructions and clever skyhook ideas

of which the men are so proud.

And with stalls taking shape,

and the vista taking on a tidy appearance that shows off its great diversity,

the sun begins to consider taking its first peek at this craft-market-day's offerings,

so as to decide whether to bless its with gentle sunshine and warmth,

or to muster its friends the wind and rain

to test the workmanship in the structures, and the resolve of the crafters.

And if the Matin Soleil is pleased,

we will once again be blessed with a glorious Market Day

Last Updated 02 November 2007 10:42