WHEN THE SWALLOWS CAME

The morning the swallows returned from their winter migration, Luke ran helter-skelter into the yard, alerted by his mother’s urgent call. She pointed towards their big old barn, just as a small bird flew out and disappeared over the rooftops. ‘The swallows have arrived,’ she said, ‘and I think one might be choosing to build its nest in our barn!’ Luke squinted up into the sky, hoping to spot one of his favourite birds. Many different species of birds visited his family’s farm, but it was the arrival of the swallows that excited him most. They came every summer and he loved watching them circle and dive, their long tails streaming behind them, snatching insects on the wing. Never before, though, had any of them nested close by.

A swallow appeared overhead, its flight quick and jerky, then swooped down through the barn’s wide-open doors. ‘There