SWALLOWS Long tailed swallows glided onto our street in springtime. Their swift movements shaded our faces, as they made for the barn, where their nest clung to rafters under the roof. They replenished the inside of the speckled nest with wisps of hay, and eggs were laid. We longed for the babies to appear, and watch them learn to fly, before they journeyed south. -- Mary Guckian, "The Road to Gowel" (2000)