“I don’t know about this”

IMG_3975.JPGSo I am gorging myself on free public fruit called serviceberries (known as June berries in some places, although they ripen here in Atlanta in May) right on the edge of Centennial Olympic Park in Downtown Atlanta,  when a man who is perhaps without a home ambles by.

He says, “Are those berries?’

I say, “Yes, and they are delicious. Try some. Choose the deep purple ones.”

“I don’t know about this,” he mutters, picking one off, looking at it, squeezing it gently.

“It’s juicy,” he says before eating it, while I’m continuing to nibble away.

“I don’t know about this,” he says again.

I keep eating.

He eats one and just stands there looking at the tree.

“I don’t know about this,” he says again, shaking his head.

I keep eating.

“These are berries on this tree. This is a berry tree,” he says, still trying to make sense of it.

As he turns to walks away. I hear a gentle, final “I don’t know about this” under his breath.

I keep eating.

I know about this.

It’s good.

(Read more about free public fruit in my book.)