Apples.
He was selling apples.
He was selling apples from his family’s orchard in the market.
Ponies.
The market was full of ponies.
The market was full of ponies walking, and running, and playing, and laughing, and crying, and talking, and yelling, and screaming.
Alive
Ponyville’s market was alive.
Ponyville’s market was alive with the energy of colts and fillies, and the coos of doting mothers hushing upset foals, and the the wisdom of elder ponies, and the sights and sounds and smells of produce, and everything else that did and ever would make life worth living.