I’m sitting in front of a large window on a sunny spring day. Outside is a field where male pheasants are doing a dance and crowing a call to attract all the ladies in the area.
The sky is blue with a scattering of white and light grey clouds. I watch the clouds as they journey across the sky.
As I sit and enjoy the natural rhythm of the scene a see two black dots rise above the conifers.
With forked tail and arched back wings for speed they dart and dash. Approaching the window they show off their white breast and red throat.
Within seconds they’ve covered the width of the field and then just before they hit the glass they separate, one to the left and the other to the right.
The swallows have returned from their journeying.
We no more give honours to fools than pray for snow in summer or rain during harvest.
You have as little to fear from an undeserved curse as from the dart of a wren or the swoop of a swallow.
Proverbs 26:1 & 2
(The pictures are from Bolton Abbey, the scene I describe was in the same valley, but in a different location)