Market day
A woman in bright pink sportswear is carefully sorting through the box of oranges marked five for a pound. She places her chosen oranges neatly along the counter and pays for them.
The tide of people moves slowly along the rows of stalls under the arched corrugated plastic roof. Some cross currents develop at the gaps in the row of stalls, for of course the carrots are always more orange and the aubergines more purple on the stalls in the next row along. There is room for five abreast in the rows but people crowd to the edges of the stalls to look at the produce and buy. Spontaneous collective movements allow wheelchair users to pass along the stalls.
Sometimes it is hard to work out which stall holder to pay. One man selected his carrots and leeks and walked to the stall adjacent but was called back to a stall across the path. His profuse apologies were waved away, coins taken and bowl contents tipped into the usual blue plastic bag.
After some time watching the streams you notice people who are not choosing and buying. Some occupy spaces in the gaps between the sections of the stalls greeting acquaintances and finding what the gossip of the day is. Others move slowly at the sides of the stream and just watch. Perhaps they find just being in the gentle stream of humanity comforting.