Sophia was watching the nests with the swallows and singing softly.
My swallows,
where did you come from afar,
what good things have you brought us?
Health, Easter
and the red eggs.

"My little swallows, my little swallows," says Kallio.
"Where do they come from, my little sisters, the deserts?"
"From the Holy Places, Kallio," my mother says. "They cross the ocean."
"And how, Alexo, do they travel so far and not get lost?"
"They help each other wing to wing."
"And how do they find their way, my little sisters?"
"These are not earthly things," my mother says.

The absence of sterile doubts and uncertainties made people in the villages to be constantly outside of themselves, with all external concerns that faded at dusk. They had their gathered opinion, as they said. Of course, in a different way - and mainly through language and divinity - they differed from the natural hive with a constant contact with the ineffable, with the sky.
S.D.