Dane Adler first arrived in River Run with more baggage than just his cello. After a decade of cutthroat auditions and passive-aggressive donors in Los Angeles, he'd come north seeking solace in art, in small town air, and in the possibility that music could still inspire rather than exhaust. The drive up had been a literal breath of fresh air-golden poppies spilling over the shoulders of Highway 101, the hills stitched with grapevines and dark redwoods-but the relief lasted only as long as it took for him to realize that the town's "cultural scene" was comprised of three folk singers, a retired high school band director, and an enthusiastic group of preschoolers who played pots and pans at the farmers' market.