So I’m accepting the idea of the ghost in the barn, even though I do not believe in ghosts. I know this is contradictory, and confusing – especially to me – but it is just the way it is. It’s the best way for me to handle it. There is a presence in the barn, I can feel it. I think he or she reveals him or herself though the light, which appears and re-appears and shifts and shimmies, whether there is sun, or whether there is not.

Today when I came in the barn, the light was shining into the barn through a window, but only on the old barrel where we toss the baling strings. I don’t quite understand how it works, but I think the spirit lives in the barrel, and now, in the old Red rocker. He takes nice and evocative photographs.