To market, to market

Imagine the excitement when I learned of a farmers' market opening nearby. Finally, I thought, I could walk on a slow, casual Saturday to an outdoor market, and head home shortly afterward with fresh, seasonal fruits.

I wouldn't need to get into a car to wander farmers' markets in other parts of the city. I wouldn't need to find parking to sample an array of lovely and sometimes unusual produce. I wouldn't need to drum up a list of errands "in that area" to justify visits to markets 20 or 25 minutes away from where I live.

In other cities, I have happily strolled farmers' markets, taking the train or the car, finding (and paying for) parking.

I love the Ferry Plaza farmers' market, for example, and try as much as possible to include it in plans when I BART into San Francisco. Trips to see a brother in Southern California also feel much more satisfying when we get to go to the market in Santa Monica.

But this new farmers' market, this one would be different, I thought. This one would actually be in my very own back yard. Finally, I could tumble out of bed, slap on a pair of sneakers and walk there.

Imagine the disappointment when I arrived during the second weekend to find less than two handfuls of stalls and vendors, and even fewer people shopping.

Organizers say they hope to see the farmers' market expand in weeks, months and years ahead, as more growers come and word spreads inevitably across the neighborhood. I do, too.