To hunt: not quite yet. To gather: oh yeah!

At some point in our lives, most of us will experience the pleasure of picking a vegetable or fruit from the plant.  Some, luckier than others, will experience it more than once, or even on a regular basis. 
If it's been a while since the last time you picked something off a tree, the memory of it might bring feelings of nostalgia.
  Maybe you were a young child growing up in New England, and your parents took you apple picking.  Maybe you spent a summer on your uncle's farm and helped him harvest some tomatoes off the vine.
   For me, one of those memories is of eating mangoes off my great aunt's tree.  Her house was the most beautiful house ever.  It was one of the traditional Spanish architecture homes common in that neighborhood, and her yard was lush and manicured.  There was a gorgeous Spanish mosaic bench under the mango tree.  My cousins and my brother and I would climb onto the bench and help each other reach high branches of the tree to get the ripest mangoes.  Then we would sit on the bench, and rip the skin of the fruit with our teeth. Finally, we would suck the intense orange flesh off the pit, its juices running all over our hands and chins.
Like most fruits in our planet, I can guarantee that if you've never had a mango in a place where mangoes grow, you have no idea what a mango really tastes like. Those mangoes off my aunt Lolita's tree, were some of the best I've ever had.
 Nowadays, the conveniences of modern life, and sometimes laziness, have made gathering food something that very few of us still do.  But the pleasures of this act are priceless.
  On our first drive into the town of Sonoma, I was taking in as much of the local scenery as I could, and one of the things I noticed was several loquat trees on the side of the road, bursting with the little orange fruits. I made a mental note to myself. 
A few days later, on my first bike ride into town, I discovered a magic fig tree, also on the side of the main road, full of still unripe black figs. Second note to self. On later days and rides, I saw a myriad of cherry plum trees, and blackberry bushes, all over the place.
  So, slowly but surely, I started to gather. First were the loquats, which turned into a delicious loquat and apricot chutney.  Then I went for the figs,  and even though only a few of them were ready, I still managed to get a couple, including one that was literally as big as an avocado! They were perfect. Sweet like honey. Melt in your mouth goodness.
 At a friend's houseI ran into a plum tree with at least thirty plums on the ground underneath it.  Plum preserves it was!
 I realized that dandelions were taking over a corner of our yard, so I picked their leaves and threw them into our salad.
 I patiently waited for the blackberries, being that it hasn't been hot enough yet for them to ripen to perfection.  A couple of days ago, on my way home after a very long ride to and from an interview, I chose to stop by one of the bushes and see where they were at.  To my surprise, there were plenty that were ready.  So I pulled by bike to the side, found a paper bag in one of its baskets, and got to work. 
 Before I knew it I had completely lost track of time and even space.  Mindfulness came naturally as I slowly scavenged around the thorny bushes for the black berries.  My hands and arms were getting scratched liked crazy, but the dull pain from it was almost unnoticeable, because the reason for it was so much larger than the pain itself.  I kept picking, always spotting more ripe berries at some other corner of the plant, unstoppable.  As they fell on top of each other in the bag, the intoxicating sweet smell of their juices came floating out of it and into my nose. What a fantastic moment.
I was present.  For a good twenty to thirty minutes of my day, nothing else mattered.  Just there, then, that.
 Eventually I decided it was time to give my scratched skin a break (plus I also feel a little greedy whenever I gather fruit, it's good to leave some for raccoons and deer), so I went home and pondered what I wanted to do with the 4 or 5 cups of blackberries I had just magically acquired.
 Lime-Blackberry Sorbet was the answer.  It turned out great.  It's intense in both color and flavor, nice and creamy even though I used no corn syrup or stabilizers. Just fruit, sugar, lime juice and love (ok, maybe a little anticipation too), and everytime I have some it brings me back to my foraging moment as well as others from the past.
Most if not all of those fruits were  going to go bad had I not picked them.  Free food would have been wasted.  Instead, it provided a fun, grounding experience, and some delicious dishes for further enjoyment.
 I believe that growing some food, even if it's just a few herbs off a windowsill, and foraging in our area, are incredible ways to be a little more in touch with how our nourishment is produced.  But the truth of the matter is, it's also a great way to relax, have some fun, and bring back memories of times gone by that we never think about anymore.
 So if you drove by a mango tree that was more than full not too long ago, or if there is fennel growing wild in your neighborhood, or even if it's just a weed, like mint, taking over a corner you walk by regularly, plan on stopping by next time, and collect a few items for your next meal.
The results will be delightful, and the experience itself, eternally rewarding.