There was a raspberry bush in a park near my house where I grew up. I’ll point out this was very much a suburban park but we would go pick those raspberries during the summer months.
What is so immensely satisfying about this little act of foraging. Perhaps it takes us back to our original days searching for seeds and fruit to sustain us? Perhaps it is just simple pleasures that allow one to take something off a vine and be rewarded with that little pop of natural sweetness.