On a Monday morning while the rest of the world readied themselves for the start of their work week, I wiped the sleep from my eyes and packed a bag to take a short road trip with a group of strangers to the edge of New Hampshire to pick fresh berries in the July sun. As Ana pulled us into traffic, forced air conditioning and conversation trailed in and out, connecting a thread between ourselves and foraging or lack thereof. Our first stop, a dusty gas station about 30 minute

America turned 250, and this warranted a trip to my favorite city to choose joy when the world often gives us plenty of reasons otherwise. New York, along with many other parts of the world, was sweltering through a heat wave. When we stepped out of Penn Station midday, the gnawing humidity was oppressive. America turned 250, and this warranted a trip to my favorite city to choose joy when the world often gives us plenty of reasons otherwise. Arrival Our first stop was somewh