Satan’s Bassoon

On the fourth of July I was whiling away a hot afternoon outside Jackson, California, where the thermometer read 40-something in Celsius–even a warm-weather-lover like myself found it intimidating to go hike. Downslope, in town, up and down Highway 49, people were finishing Independence Day parades, starting BBQ grills, finding a good spot to watchContinue reading “Satan’s Bassoon”