Lying in wait
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PRONE TO DEPRESSION TO BEGIN WITH, and living alone on an 80-acre farm, I have found myself fighting those dark dogs and thinking, on more than one occasion, that while we are trying to mitigate one pandemic, we may inadvertently be causing another. The times I have been out have seemed surreal, everyone’s face covered with masks, some black, some white and some fancy, with floral fabric and even lace trim, but that can’t change the fact that half of the human face has been eradicated by this virus, only the eyes visible. They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul, but COVID has taught me that this is untrue. The eyes tell part of the story, but the soul can be glimpsed only when one has access to the whole of the human face. Cut off from the curve of the lips, the regal or ski-sloped nose, the telltale dents of dimples and the road-map-like wrinkles that can form in later years, the eyes can seem almost slippery.
My farm is in Fitchburg, Mass., an old mill town that has seen better days. As warm weather
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