The white bellies of the swallows flashing on me; it is not easy to follow them.
As quickly as they materialize in the sky, they disappear in the blue, as in an optical illusion.
Fascinating how they advance rhythmically by a single, tiny flapping with wings folded, easily and efficiently propel through the air, are effortless.
I admire their elegance and weightlessness. Any type of air pressure is always the best for them: they can be casual in a deep fall or spring up on a high.
With a quick twitch, a barely perceptible pulse to give the swallows in a new direction: a precise small or even complete change.
It would be the ideal of my life:
Always can put a pulse: can make a very small or even complete change of direction as a matter of course.
His swallow, have a gleaming white belly.
Be free.
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