I’m green and crunchy, I grow in the ground. You eat me in salads, But I’m not a bean.

A heavy gray haze, Obstructing the dawn's bright hue. Of smoke and fog, I'm a portmanteau.

Bright as a blush in the morning sun, I hide my seeds where most have none. Sweet on the tongue, in gardens I grow. Name me, the berry with freckles in rows. What am I?

I make up most of the universe yet you cannot see me I'm everywhere and nowhere yet you can't touch me I'm what looks like a shadow and known by all If i ceased to exist life would stall What am I

I follow the line of maximum depth within a moving channel. Unmarked, continuous, defined only by gradient and flow. Political borders defer to me, though I remain entirely water. Trace the river’s lowest vector, and you arrive.