It’s almost Solstice, and I am in the Irish Hills at the Great Lakes Foragers Gathering. Now fourteen years old, the Gathering has grown from twelve people sitting down to a foraged dinner to a community of 350—the largest east of the Mississippi. Mifsud, Boyd, and Elaina Sims are all organizers of the Gathering as well as foragers in their own right. We sit in a long open-sided roofed structure overlooking a grass-swathed hollow dotted with tents and scattered groups of people while I interview them. Along the rim of the hollow, I spot vendors with plants, glassware, salves, baskets, jewelry, ceramics, and a long line in front of a bakery. A steaming pot sits in the middle of a stone-rimmed fire circle at the center of the depression.