I’m not religious or superstitious, but a pastor wrote me and told me we are in the grip of a devil. Devils, he said, have no physical form, he said; they are often described as shape-shifters, having no single physical form, instead taking whatever shape best deceives or tempts a person – ranging from a charismatic, persuasive figure to an animal or a dark shadow that hangs about the sky and steals power and lies skillfully. The Devil makes himself the most powerful figure around; he can take human form at any time and enter the minds of weak-minded people. I’m not sure whether it was evil that transformed our country so cruelly, or why, but it rang a bell with me somehow. Only kindness can kill him or drive him away, the pastor said. He said the Devil isn’t entirely evil. He sometimes is sent to bring us together.

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Maria goes to work with her Posse right behind.

I always find peace when the sheep are at ease, bellies full, chewing their cud. The hens live to hang out with them.

The back of the barn, a beautiful spot in Fall.

Fall’s haunting beauty.