Every time is a pleasure. But the day that stays with me is the one early this summer that my mother, while walking in the market, started telling me the history of that piece of land.
When she was a child (she's 90 now), this parking lot was all water - part of Long Island Sound. Another piece of land nearby that is a parking lot was a marsh.
At one end of the lot which holds the market there were stone steps going into the water, which people would use to get to their boats. She came here with one of her brothers to catch horseshoe crabs and clams. Her mother would have a large pot boiling on a fire outside, waiting for their catch.
The water wasn't very deep but was moving water with a rocky bottom. One young boy she knew drowned there.
The stone steps are gone, the water has been filled in to make way for the Interstate, her brothers all passed on many years ago, but to hear her story was to be there.