The air is filled with aromas of fried oyster mushrooms, chocolate pastries, and pepper jack omelets. As you stroll around the city’s market, the sun floods the sky with morning light and adds a glow of warmth to the place. An array of flowers, from marigold petunias to lavender azaleas and flamingo-pink daisies, sits on the pavement below you, each pot smelling like dampened earth. In the middle of the market, a homeless man wearing a torn flannel and frayed jeans plays his guitar, singing reggae music as one-dollar bills topple into his hat. The sky becomes bluer and brighter, and the city around you awakens; you leave the market with a pot of violet hydrangeas, a cup of black iced-coffee, and Bob Marley music stuck in your head.