The trees surrounded us, reading the timeless language of sunlight and transmitting the news deep into the dreaming dark of the soil beneath them. In the protected dell, the swallows’ flight led me twirling about the field in spirals, constantly spinning to face their acrobatic transits as they scared up moths from the grasses.

There, in the full blossom of the afternoon, led by swallows into the arcwrought patterns they wove, I glimpsed and was drawn into a mystery I had never expected to discover. There was a language here at play. Not a specific language, such as English. Something more mysterious, more powerful…something… elemental. The planet’s living language.

And for a moment, within that dance, I could have sworn I heard the Sun, whispering: “Remember this to them.” I stopped, and just then a swallow swooped up and passed me. In an instant, our eyes were less than a foot apart. And at that moment, it caught my gaze… and winked.