Swallows by Angel Obermiller

The swallows fly toward the sun away from the cold, cold where the frost covers the ground and all is frozen over upon a winter's night, the cold that silences the forest. Upon that cold quiet a single sound emerges from the sky; the sound of the swallows flying south. South where the sun shines making them appear a coppery golden brown. With hints of iridescent blues and greens the shimmering colors appear in the sky as they fly by. The colors in which they seem to be glowing, contrasted with the light blue sky and golden summer sun, make the annual appearance look like magic. Magic that is beautiful and necessary. When they land they are in a sunny forgotten hollow in which they reproduce and with that come little eggs. Baby swallows of all colors are brought into this world and double in size and fill the skies. While on their way home they leave behind a sunny warm place but bring back life and noise. The ground thaws and life can be heard - the sounds of animals playing, running, and more is all life is for.