Every time I grow through the Grand Army farmer's market something new catches my eye. New flowers, a strange fruit or vegetable, a new craft apple vodka maker (there's more than one?). And then there are the scenes that are so common across the city - and the world really - that it's sometimes hard to notice them in this strange food fantasy.
It was the brief moment of these men breaking bread together, laughing together, forgetting the 4am alarm they woke up to that morning, and sharing stories together that drew me in on Saturday. Hidden behind a tent in plain sight, just far enough away from the crowd who all of a sudden seemed more like food tourists than neighbors, was a different kind of signal of what brings people together.