As a child in Poland, summer meant wandering the woods to pick bilberries, small buckets in hand, fingers and lips stained purple by the end of the day. Those slow hours outside felt ordinary then, but now I see how much they shaped me. Foraging has stayed with me - these days it’s blackberries in the hedgerows or small, sun-warmed wild plums, with homemade wine carrying the taste of the season into winter. Always with care: only pick what you can confidently identify, as some fruits and plants can be poisonous.