Westcliffe is a small town in Colorado nestled at the base of a towering peak. It is quant, quiet, and eclectic. It's Main Street houses two little coffee shops, a general store, some antique shops, a wood work store, an unbeatable burger shack, and an Amish bakery. The people are simple and sweet. Not the sort of simple which confines them to the narrow judgment of a small-town mindset, but the simple of enjoying each moment the day brings.
Every Wednesday the small square is filled with the tables and tents of the Farmer’s Market selling the best jams and jellies, produce and pastries. I approach the market with empty bag in hand and something tasty in mind. I explore the herbs and produce. I decide on some peaches from a man whose companion was a tea cup poodle laying in a doggie bed on the table guarding the peaches, or so I assumed.
“What’s his name?” I ask.
“Brutus,” the man responds. “He’s a watch dog.”
“Guarding your peaches, I see.”
“No, no,” the man quickly stops me. Clearly, I’ve misinterpreted this dog’s role. “He’s a watchdog," the man continues, "He watches people.”
I wait for more. Nothing. “I see.” I take my bag of peaches with a slight shake of my head and a giggle. Then move along. I stop by a stand with soaps, oils, and lotions. I begin smelling one after the other, just like my normal approach when entering a Yankee Candle. I can’t stop. My nose is having too much fun: Lavender, Orange Blossom, Vanilla Musk, Colorado. “What’s Colorado?” I think out loud.
“That’s one of our most popular,” a woman with long silver hair responds to my question. I look up and she has the most wonderful eyes. One is a vibrant blue and the other is a rich hazel.
“Oh, I see why it is so popular, its smells very good.” I say, slightly embarrassed my thoughts were verbalized while also trying not to stare at her beautiful eyes. She continues to explain the process of how she makes the lotion and her inspiration for scents. After purchasing some hand lotion, I carry on to what I’ve waited for the bonneted baker.
The layers of sweets are almost too wonderful to take in. Cookies, pies, turnovers, and cinnamon rolls. The woman with the bonnet kindly smiles with patience as I survey the baked goodness trying not to drool. The gentleman in front of me takes the last raspberry turnover. Behind me a sweet elderly woman asks if they have any sticky buns left.
“We have one more ma’am.” It’s their lucky day, I think as she gets the last bun. Each of them got the last of what they hoped for. What do I want? I continue to glance over the selection and the woman with the bonnet sweetly serves others who are more decisive. Soon, her face lights up and I look in the direction to which her joy is inspired. An old friend coming up to say hello. His sideways smile grows bigger as he approaches to tent, and her grin becomes contagious, inviting you to join in her joy. The sweetness of the moment simply added to the sweetness of the turnover I held in my hand as I walked away. Perhaps this is why I love Westcliff. Not because of what it has to offer, but how it is offered. In warm ways and friendly faces, simple spirits and a slowness which takes advantage of the good things. G. K. Chesterton said, “The chief aim of Christianity is to give way for good things to run wild.” Let our hearts run wild with the good things in each day, pastries included.
Every Wednesday the small square is filled with the tables and tents of the Farmer’s Market selling the best jams and jellies, produce and pastries. I approach the market with empty bag in hand and something tasty in mind. I explore the herbs and produce. I decide on some peaches from a man whose companion was a tea cup poodle laying in a doggie bed on the table guarding the peaches, or so I assumed.
“What’s his name?” I ask.
“Brutus,” the man responds. “He’s a watch dog.”
“Guarding your peaches, I see.”
“No, no,” the man quickly stops me. Clearly, I’ve misinterpreted this dog’s role. “He’s a watchdog," the man continues, "He watches people.”
I wait for more. Nothing. “I see.” I take my bag of peaches with a slight shake of my head and a giggle. Then move along. I stop by a stand with soaps, oils, and lotions. I begin smelling one after the other, just like my normal approach when entering a Yankee Candle. I can’t stop. My nose is having too much fun: Lavender, Orange Blossom, Vanilla Musk, Colorado. “What’s Colorado?” I think out loud.
“That’s one of our most popular,” a woman with long silver hair responds to my question. I look up and she has the most wonderful eyes. One is a vibrant blue and the other is a rich hazel.
“Oh, I see why it is so popular, its smells very good.” I say, slightly embarrassed my thoughts were verbalized while also trying not to stare at her beautiful eyes. She continues to explain the process of how she makes the lotion and her inspiration for scents. After purchasing some hand lotion, I carry on to what I’ve waited for the bonneted baker.
The layers of sweets are almost too wonderful to take in. Cookies, pies, turnovers, and cinnamon rolls. The woman with the bonnet kindly smiles with patience as I survey the baked goodness trying not to drool. The gentleman in front of me takes the last raspberry turnover. Behind me a sweet elderly woman asks if they have any sticky buns left.
“We have one more ma’am.” It’s their lucky day, I think as she gets the last bun. Each of them got the last of what they hoped for. What do I want? I continue to glance over the selection and the woman with the bonnet sweetly serves others who are more decisive. Soon, her face lights up and I look in the direction to which her joy is inspired. An old friend coming up to say hello. His sideways smile grows bigger as he approaches to tent, and her grin becomes contagious, inviting you to join in her joy. The sweetness of the moment simply added to the sweetness of the turnover I held in my hand as I walked away. Perhaps this is why I love Westcliff. Not because of what it has to offer, but how it is offered. In warm ways and friendly faces, simple spirits and a slowness which takes advantage of the good things. G. K. Chesterton said, “The chief aim of Christianity is to give way for good things to run wild.” Let our hearts run wild with the good things in each day, pastries included.
Comments
Post a Comment