I hadn’t been to the Union Square Greenmarket in a couple of weeks, and that was reason enough to go this morning. Up the subway stairs, replacing my sunglasses on my nose, I slipped between two truck stands. A normal breath peaked, and then of its own impetus drew still deeper. I followed the fragrance. Carrots, yellow and orange; onions, radishes; a rave of lettuces on my right. Then fresh baked breads to the left. And parsley. I’d forgotten what Union Square smells like, perfumed by the harvest, on a crisp autumn morning. I strolled through the entire circuit as if I didn’t already have any favorite places to shop, like Stokes Farm, near Park Avenue South, across from Disc-o-Rama. They have the best heirloom tomatoes in season and the best herbs in any season. I head straight for the rosemary. I lift a bunch to inhale. Oh, god! It is fragrant, and full of prana. (My yoga books tell me that prana is a subtle form of life energy; it is in air, but is not oxygen. Those same books teach me about pranayama, breathing exercises, to fill me up with vital life force.) Rosemary pranayama.