Vendors at the hebdomadal Ballard Farmers' Market packed up their wares and left the city for their fields and barns.
My friend Charlie, who works for a farm on Vashon Island, totes sand bags that were used to hold his tent poles in place.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr7GKY5mHvH080qDl-QU862stUE-vUcP0WNqJP_shMRQ1C_oUcuF2m8qBLolZC_n35lMu1VZ041Px-g4s5wOSmSz8hsimxcutY_1JA_RfmQ_FqgUj0SghnAk3qQDgUznkI2pj6Sg/s320/DSCN3234.JPG)
Kaylin, Charlie's co-worker, rolls a barrel back to the big blue pick-up that brings Vashon-originated milk, eggs and meats to Ballard every week.
Flower farmers, probably SE Asian immigrants, make some last-minute sales.