Nau speak: Seattle: Pike Place Public Market on Fourth of July

July has settled into the Northern hemisphere, with long sunny days baking away any vestigial chill from spring's showers, and lush verdant greenery bursting from any patch of fertile ground it can find. Seattleites have certainly noticed, and when they're not basking in the glorious sunlight and soaking in the vitamin D while indulging on some form of aquatic activity, they're likely thinking about food; as in, what they're going to eat tonight and whereabouts to procure it. Whether you're pining for juice-squirting stone fruits that dribble down your arm and chin with each luxuriant bite, or rich oceanic goodies served over ice, you can find your fix at Pike Place Public Market. And really, what is more American than the unadulterated consumerism and capitalism to be found at the market? You can find eager vendors vying for your pretty pennies, juxtaposing their shops' locales, the colorful arrangements, and witty signs just-so to try and catch the eye of the buyer. Shops live or die trying to manifest their destinies in the crowded aisles, and on this year of 2019's Fourth of July I opted to walk the deeply-packed and often soggy streets that wind their way through Pike Public Market and Post Alley.

It's cherry season, y'all, and people are losing their god-dang minds up here! I enjoy a cherry as much as the next girl and have admired many a perfectly pink or pristine white cherry blossom while living in Japan, but people in Seattle are on another level when it comes to their obsession with cherries. You can find a wide array of stalls at Pike or any other farmer's market more than glad to sell you a cup of the delicious little stone fruits, packed with juicy tartness and sweet freshness. And oh boy, those little yellow-blush rainier cherries? They are the superstars of the show! Not unlike the curbside shrimp-selling vans of Arizona (any other fans of Small Town Murder here tonight?), you can find little tents propped up selling bags upon bags of cherries from any corner store, gas station, or vacant lot open with a modicum of parking. Pike's place is no exception, with ample opportunities to pick up a handful of the sweet little delights to snack on as you wander.

Don't forget the chilly, slurpable delights! With temperatures reaching some sweltering (by Washingtonian standards) heights, there are plenty of cider and juice stalls open, taking advantage of Washington state's preternatural overabundance of the tree-growing fruits and access to ice. Pear will often make an appearance, too, as there are some nearby valleys that grow an inconceivably large amount of the juicy, sometimes grainy fruit. If you're lucky, you might catch a particularly animated vendor shouting an exuberant "Yeeeeeessss!" to the cup-grabbing curious hordes. If you find him, call him "boss". I think he likes it.

No matter what time of year you find yourself exploring the Market, it's going to be an experience. In summer, the overwhelming verdancy of the various blossoms available, paired with the cornucopia of fruits and vegetables coming into the season, may lend it towards being a bit more colorful than in the winter months, but any market is well worth a visit for a glimpse into the communities that surround them. I'm glad I stopped by for the Fourth, as a patriotic (or anarchistic) vibe was rippling through the air. I missed seeing it, but there was someone running from the cops darting between the stalls! And tourists from the whole world over ambling by, whether they spoke in Mandarin or Russian (both of which I heard on this visit). A commingling of consumers over a veritable cornucopia of consumable goodies...again, I ask you; what's more American than that? You can load up on hot dogs, fresh corn on the cobb or any locally grown (or imported) produce you could possibly desire, if you look long enough. There are glistening, rotund fish upon ice, or slurpable stacks of oysters and other shellfish on ice ready to be taken home, or even shipped if you'd rather delay the gratification.