Things are looking up. Proof that summer actually will come: Morning Glory farm stand opened on Tuesday. My meals are more delicious already.

For the last several weeks, I’ve been hanging around Morning Glory like a puppy, tail wagging in anticipation. Well, not literally, but I have been picking up eggs and pea shoots from the porch fridge whenever possible. I bought a six-pack of lettuce seedlings one day, even though I already have dozens of little lettuce plants germinating from seeds I sowed. And when I stopped by on Sunday, I ran into farmer Jim Athearn and farmstand manager Suzy Crowley, both scurrying around in anticipation of Tuesday’s opening.

It’s the 45th season for Morning Glory Farm, and the original plan to open the farmstand extra early this year had to be scrapped, while the farm worked with the Edgartown board of health to get new protocols in place.

Through face masks and more than six feet apart, Jim and I had a quick chat about the summer. I didn’t want to keep him from his work, though it was tempting — Jim and his son Simon, who is CEO of Morning Glory, are two of the most fascinating people to talk to about growing food. So I got right to the point and asked him how they are tackling the conundrum of higher demand for local food vs. the potentially much smaller seasonal customer base. I could tell he’d been thinking about this a lot, but the bottom line, Jim said, is they’d rather have too much food than not enough. They’re going full speed ahead.

Proper safety precautions are a must. — Jeanna Shepard

“If we wind up with too much, then we’ll just give a lot away. As long as the gleaners continue to be available to harvest, we can do that,” he said.

Farmers are used to dealing with uncertainty. Between deer and hurricanes, tomato blight and withering drought, every year has a surprise that can potentially swipe away a harvest faster than a disinterested suitor on a dating app.

In fact this year the exceptionally cold spring weather has already stalled the growth of some seedlings that had been off to a great start. I learned this from Debbie Athearn, whom I saw when I arrived at opening day on Tuesday. In typical family fashion, Debbie was working feverishly (she’s the engine behind the successful growth of the farm stand), but I could still see her smiling and laughing behind her face mask.

“This is all a little crazy,” she said. “But we’re glad to be open.”

I arrived safely after senior hour (9 to 10 a.m.) since, you know, I didn’t want to get carded or anything. The gray hair can be deceiving, but I’m not yet at legal elder shopping age. The line to get in wasn’t long, but Suzy Crowley said business had been brisk in the morning.

“What’s everybody buying?” I asked her.

“Vegetables and fruit! I’m so glad to see that. It makes me really happy that people want to eat healthy right now,” she said, dashing off to get a dozen eggs for a lone elder (of the very-white-hair variety) who had wandered up post-senior hour and simply wanted a dozen eggs.

I found my place in line among the perennial flowers, where ropes delineated the approach to the back door, the entrance to which most customers with shopping carts were headed, spaced a safe distance apart. If you were just there for a quick salad or soup to-go, you could enter the farmstand via an express line leading to the regular double-door entrance.

Protocols include face masks and social distancing. — Jeanna Shepard

Of course it’s never a good thing when I’m paused in front of a table of plants, so a nice indigo Salvia (Lyrical Blues meadow sage) and a pretty little violet-blue annual phlox (Intensia blueberry) made it into my cart. (At least that’s better than a candy bar and a People magazine.) Thankfully, I quickly moved up in line and onto the back porch, where I took advantage of the sanitizing station and grabbed a few wipes before entering the store.

Inside, the aroma of freshly baked cinnamon-something wafted over me. Ahh. I never did figure out what it was as I got distracted when I saw Meg Athearn (did I mention this is a hard-working family?) restocking bags of Morning Glory-grown spinach, arugula, Salanova lettuce, and kale into the cooler. I snagged one of each.

I’m pretty sure I did not follow proper protocol when I backed up and looped around the store again (a couple times) to check out the cheese, the meat (plenty on hand for now), the beautiful display of organic tomato sauce and pasta, the rows of house-roasted peanut butter and local honey, and of course, the vegetables. The bodacious fresh herb display was particularly heartening. But I held off on herb bunches in favor of perusing the potted herbs outside near the greenhouse. Once I checked out (credit cards only) with my friendly masked cashier behind plexiglass (and there was Suzy again, bagging up my groceries!), I went outside and stashed my haul in my car.

That was probably a mistake since I was empty-handed when I approached all the potted herbs lined up outside the greenhouse. I couldn’t help myself — a new variety of pineapple sage I’d never seen before (Honey Melon) winked at me and I reached for it. Once in my hands, I knew I had to buy it. I thought, well, if I’m going to have to go back inside, I might as well get a few more herbs while I’m at it — a crisp new English thyme, a fluffy Italian oregano, a bright fresh basil and a six-pack of parsley.

But I didn’t have to go back inside, as it turns out. An employee with a Square card reader let me know I could buy the herbs right there at the greenhouse. Boy, do they have this all figured out.

Good thing, since I forgot to buy a purple sage plant and we’ve already plowed through two bags of arugula and spinach. I think I’ll put on my disguise and head for senior hour.