× Expand Photography by Arthur Witman, courtesy of the State Historical Society of Missouri

Farmers first parked wagons here when it was a meadow, a few years after the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Wooden sheds went up in the 1840s. In 1929, they built this one, modeled on a Renaissance foundling hospital. Today, the ritual’s the same as it was in 1944: point, then hand over cash, small bills preferred. There are still melons off the truck. Also live chickens; flip-flops with flowers on the thong; wild morels; field-dressed possums on ice; bean pies; boudin; Boston ferns; fancy goat cheese; feng shui fans; incense that smells like Bounce; prawns; tiny plastic Ziplocs of burdock root; and mini-donuts fried on the spot. (They’re surprisingly good with a plastic cup of beer, breakfast of choice for some Saturday a.m. Soulard Market shoppers.) An eclectic scene, though the real magic’s in the crowd. Nowhere else in St. Louis, and perhaps not in many other places at all, will you see in one field of vision an Amish straw hat, a tie-dyed tunic, a swimsuit, a KSHE shirt, a jersey headscarf.