A Season Worth Savoring: Farmers Markets Around Kitsap and Beyond and my family roots.
There’s a very specific kind of magic that arrives quietly in the Pacific Northwest. It’s not marked by a date on the calendar, but by a feeling — the first truly warm morning, the hum of conversation drifting through open air, and the unmistakable return of farmers markets. This is the beginning of what feels like summer in Kitsap and beyond.
I have always had a special love for farmers markets, and maybe it’s because of where I come from. My great grandmother, Ida Erlandson Longmate, lived on a beautiful stretch of waterfront property in Kingston, where their land ran from just past the slough on South Kingston Road all the way to near what is now Arness Road. It was more than a home, it was a working farm built on long days, strong hands, and the kind of resilience that shaped generations. She and her husband, alongside their children, grew and gathered everything themselves, vegetables, eggs, and whatever else the land would give them, tilling the soil and sowing the seeds with care. When it came time to sell, they had a small dock where the mosquito fleet would stop and pick her up.
She would load a big cart full of everything they had raised and make her way across the water to Seattle, where the boat would dock at Pier 52. From there, she would push and pull that cart all the way to Pike Place Market, bringing the fruits of their labor to the heart of the city. I’ve been told she has a square there with her name on it, a quiet and lasting mark of the life she built, though I have never been able to find it. I like to believe it is still there, woven into the rhythm of that place. So maybe that’s it. Maybe the feeling I get when I walk through a farmers market, the pull toward the produce, the people, and the stories, isn’t just about the season. Maybe it’s something deeper. Maybe it’s in my blood.