Last summer, I went camping in Phoenicia with my six-year-old daughter Penelope and her mother.  We’d migrated here from Lake Tahoe after getting divorced and priced out of our housing during what I call the “Great Pandemic Migration.” It seemed that half of San Francisco moved to the Sierra Nevada, and I left behind my life for the last decade—a community of like-minded artists and nature lovers and a barn-burning bluegrass band called Lost Whiskey Engine that went on hiatus in March 2020 when the world shut down—and settled in with my parents in my hometown of Collinsville, CT.  Penelope’s…