It rained earlier that morning. By evening, temperatures had climbed into the 80s after weeks of much cooler weather. The ground was thick and warm. Gross! The humidity hung over everything like a wet blanket and reminded me exactly why I left Louisiana. Michelle and the babies went to sleep despite the popping firecrackers. Everyone is celebrating. Grilling. Drinking beer and participating in normal human Memorial Day activities. Not me. I’m outside wearing a headlamp, hunti

I never set out looking for the Devil. But he kept showing up—in the roots I dug, the mushrooms I photographed, the folk names whispered...