I know, I know…I’ve been terribly slack this week, what with no Music Monday post and all. But things have been quite busy lately – I have finally decided for sure to leave Montreal and return home come September 1st! So you will get all kinds of posts in the weeks to come as I will be driving back to South Carolina.

Wildflowers Marché Fermier Montreal PlateauIn any case, I do have a pretty sweet travel post for this week. Earlier this week I was walking home after a great Yoga class at my place of work, Yoga-à-Porter, when I decided to walk by the little stretch of green, Parc Lahaie, on St. Joseph and St. Laurent.

To my surprise, the Marché Fermier was up! I had previously thought it was open only on Thursdays. As I was walking through the market, one stand in particular caught my eye. In front of the table, a girl was holding a small bouquet of flowers, and I noticed that they had the flowers for sale.

“How much was that bouquet?” I asked the girl.

“3-50,” she replied, “really reasonable, right?” That sold me. I looked at the wild flowers – beautiful big yellow ones, small fluffy purple ones, leafy red ones. They did look a little wilted, but I was in one of those moods – you know, where the smallest things can make you happy all day – so I started picking out my bouquet.

After I had made my choice, I emptied my change-purse, only to find that I had exactly $3.45! I looked at the merchant, “Is $3.45 okay?” I asked.

“That’s perfect,” he said, a soft drawl sneaking into his voice, “actually, I overcharged you.” He smiled at me, and I walked off with a little slice of happiness for less than 4 bucks.

The Marché Fermier is great because you can buy fresh fruits and vegetables as well as cheeses, breads, and plenty of other local products for much cheaper than in a grocery store or épicerie. As I passed through the market, there was even a guy playing the banjo – and very well, I might add! Just walking through the market made me feel much more connected with nature, and later I had fun imagining myself frolicking in beautiful fields of wildflowers with the faint sound of a banjo coming from somewhere and not a single care in the world.