Last Saturday morning I took my camera and visited a large Flea Market held at the fairgrounds.  After walking through the rows of vendors selling everything from socks, used books, jewelry, cables for all your electronic devices, crafted items, savaged items and gently used household items and collectibles, I found a bench in the shade and proceeded to watch the parade of people passing by.

For a bit, I photographed all the dogs that passed by with their masters.  One had arrived in a small wagon … apparently he needed to pick up quite a few fleas at the market.   Then a small pickup truck pulled up beside the vendor that was straight across the street from my bench.  It was not there to carry away any of the items for sale, but was bringing in a few “new” items.

As I watched them unload and old metal porch glider and matching side chair, my mind drifted back to my childhood.  My mom’s parents had a glider just like that on their porch.  I was small enough at the time, that my feet didn’t reach the porch floor and it took two or three of us kids to get it to glide after we slid down in the seat enough to reach the porch.