This morning found twins in the partially constructed barn. One was being licked diligently as she nosed the air towards a warm teet, the other was dead in the muck between two bright red placentas.

The young sheep, turned mother, kept her head low and listened. She listened to the ram and wethers talking trash to one another. She listened to two unfamiliar cats hissing. She listened to milkers being taken out and returning, to roosters and to heavy foot steps. She listened as a storm approached, thought better of it and turned sharply south.