In a Cloud of Smoke

These precious last days of summer - so often filled with decadently final swimming hole plunges - have this year been shrouded in a thick cloud of smoke. It has been heartbreaking to watch a careless spark grow to consume hundreds of acres of beloved forest. In my tiny Oregon town, aromatic wood-smoke casts eerie light on quiet streets as the sun and moon rise red. Despite the immediate threat being miles away, I began to pack a bag for evacuation a few nights ago. Driven by some imaginative madness, I couldn't stop myself from filling the truck with supplies that I imagined might be crucial for the apocalypse: all my camping gear, an axe, ski goggles, the Norton Anthology of Modern and Co

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