Between talk-radio blather and election-season bravado, it’s easy to have an opinion about immigration, and easier to forget that people—actual people—pick our food. Now and then we might glimpse them out the car window, but few of us realize that what we eat depends on them, and fewer still have any idea what their world is like. Jeanne Marie Laskas spends a season with a group of these nomads—the constant wanderers who put fruit on our table.