�y��vlog

We passed a sheepfold with dry stone walls, a roof of scavenged tree trunks and plastic, and two padlocked doors.

Almost every morning there was another new lamb in the sheepfold.

The Angelus rang, its bronze voice pouring through the sheepfold and over the orchard walls in slow, rich waves.

Already a flight of four had been seen over the southwest shores of Hosk, not alighting but spying out the sheepfolds, barns, and villages.

That night we lie down in a sheepfold, deep in a pasture.