The kid just pulled a hop off the vine and held it like it was a tiny grenade

He’s fifteen, new to the field, and already knows more about weather patterns than I do. I watched him stand there for three seconds, staring at the green thing in his hand like he’d never seen anything alive before. Then he smiled — not a happy smile, but the kind that says: ‘I see how this works now.’ The sun was low, the air still. I didn’t say a word. Sometimes you don’t need to.